#though society has rightfully moved past this show. it still needed to exist when it did

[lakemichigans]

i’ve been rewatching queer as folk and it's wild how a show can age so poorly but still makes me kick my feet and giggle into my pillow

[lesbiedykes]

aY’all wanna hear an AU I have for Carmen Sandiego? No? Well I’m gonna rant anyway. 

TLDR; V.I.L.E. is a Coven of Vampires.... more under the cut. Warning: goes not extremely explicit but does get dark, and contains spoilers for season 2. 

AU Where VILE is a coven of vampires. These vampires are the stereotypical vampires. They cannot walk in sunlight, fire and silver are dangerous to them. They need sleep albeit not as much as humans. They can eat human food, but it tastes bad. Ultimately, vampires can only be made, not born (or so they believed...) 

Approximately 400 years ago (1600′s), Gunnar Maelstrom was reborn into his new life as a Vampire. A noble in his human life, he was soon hunted down by vampire hunters when they realised he had stopped ageing. He is forced to flee and live in the shadows, resentment growing. He spends a century wreaking havoc upon humanity, a gory murder spree that soon bores him. He wishes to return to his life of luxury. 

In the early 1700′s, he meets Dexter Wolfe, a talented human thief who manages to rob a group of wealthy individuals blind, making off with their property. Maelstrom is witness to this and follows Wolfe. Wolfe is homeless and stealing to survive, but strives for more. He and Maelstrom strike a deal, and Wolfe is turned into a vampire by Maelstrom. 

Maelstrom and Wolfe, for a few years, work as a team. They travel the world, stealing whatever the need to live lavishly. In the late 1700′s, they meet Countess Cleo. She is from a fairly wealthy family and knows much about high society, culture, and art. While they were attempting to rob her, she discovered their secret and then asked to join them. They agreed, due to her valuable skills. 

They meet Saira Bellum soon after, an absolute genius for her time. Cleo falls in love with her immediately. The group is impressed with her abilities, and decides to welcome her into their fold. Together they sail to the New World in the 1800′s, where they meet Brunt, a widow put on trial for murdering her husband, who would be sentenced to death. Maelstrom takes an interest in her, and decides to turn her. 

The five of them continue to travel for another couple decades, before finally deciding to open V.I.L.E. Academy with their accumulated wealth, and expand their coven. 

Each year, they would accept forty students from across the world. Any promising thief could attend and at the end of the year, 15 students would pass. Because the transformation into Vampire was potentially fatal and only the strongest could survive, usually only 5-8 agents survived each year. Those who died during transformation are disposed of and those who survived wake up to an unquenchable thirst, and participate in their first hunt - their old classmates, set loose on the island. (This would, after all, keep V.I.L.E. a secret, two birds with one stone.) 

Shadowsan/Suhara was raised to be an actual samurai, deflected days before his first battle and stealing one of his brother’s (who was a samurai) swords. He eventually makes it to V.I.L.E. island, where he is amongst the graduating class and the survivors of the transformation. 

Flash forward over 150 years. Dexter Wolfe has grown bored of the island, taking off constantly to explore the world once more. His absences grow more and more frequent. The faculty, his coven, are deeply betrayed believing he might be attempting to run away, and send Shadowsan to kill him. 

Shadowsan tracks Wolfe down to Buenos Aires, Argentina, where he sees that Wolfe is intending to run, and.... has a child? Which surely, should be impossible - but it’s not. 

Recovering from his shock, Shadowsan plans on killing Wolfe, but is stopped when the police arrive on a raid. He watches as Wolfe puts his daughter in a closet, talks sweetly to her to calm her down, and takes off. Chief shoots Wolfe, which would have been fatal if he were not a vampire. 

Shadowsan prepares to do damage control - kill all witnesses, after dealing with the target. He begins the fire in the house, planning to move outside afterwards. What he does not expect is for Wolfe, upon seeing the flames, to run back into the house to save her daughter. (Oh, how his teacher has changed.) 

Shadowsan takes the girl and gets out of the house just as the roof collapses. Knowing there’s no way for Wolfe to have survived that, he opts to return to V.I.L.E. without taking out the police. 

Shadowsan takes credit for Wolfe’s death and for bringing Black Sheep back to the island. They puzzle over her existence and have Bellum run a few tests that prove she really is half vampire. This being completely unprecedented, they decide to raise her and study her, with the plan to make her their secret weapon. 

Through her youth, Black Sheep shows little to no signs of her Vampire lineage. She eats human food and runs around in the daytime (although the sun may hurt her eyes, at times), and grows at the rate of a normal human child. She does seem a bit faster and more agile, but that could just be the fact she was raised by professional thieves. Because of this, the faculty keeps the vampire thing a secret from her, which she generally accepts. 

Things continue as they do in canon, with her getting in contact with Player, requesting to attend the academy, and failing (although she does not get fed to her passing classmates, talk about preferential treatment). She follows them out on their mission and has the same realisation about stealing. She is surprised to see that her classmates have changed, but she cannot describe how or why. 

She is returned to the island and eventually makes a break for it after stealing the hard drive. Things continue as normal. She meets Ivy and Zack and they join her, the has multiple successful capers.... 

And then she gets sick. 

Her vampire awakening as truly struck. Carmen spends a few days writhing in pain, mimicking an actual transformation. When she comes out of it, she is bloodthirsty. She tackles the first person she finds on the street and begins to drink their blood. 

Carmen comes to just as the person looses consciousness, and she’s left with a limp body she rushes to emergency. Carmen rightfully panics, having no idea what has happened to her. Player does his best to research, coming up with only urban legends about vampires. They both agree its ridiculous and instead agree that VILE most likely did something to her to make her like this. She continues her missions, fighting the desire for blood. She is also suddenly more sensitive to sunlight (though not nearly as much as a full vampire) and has lost part of her appetite for human food. 

When Chase is taken prisoner and used for bait, she saves him and is almost killed by Brunt. Shadowsan saves her and reveals that he is the one who found her, and that she is half vampire. He gives her a kinda half-assed explanation about her past and tells her that V.I.L.E. is indeed a Vampire Coven. He leaves her with the hard drive and a bottle of pills. 

The pills are an imitation blood substitute that vampires can add to beverages and drink to survive between feedings. They were invented by Bellum for the operatives to drink to reduce the need for blood. Carmen, not being a full vampire even after her transformation, wouldn’t need to drink them as often, but they help the cravings. 

Meanwhile: 

ACME does not know they are hunting Vampires. They genuinely believe it’s just a large criminal organisation. Chase, however.... is a descendent of a long line of vampire hunters, and believes that Carmen is a vampire before she even began to wake up as one. While the claims feel ridiculous, he is still the only agent that has managed to get close to Carmen Sandiego, so ACME wants him on their side. 

I have more but I’m tired so maybe I’ll add more tomorrow. If you read this far, thanks!!! 

[hiriajuu-suffering]

People Suck

If there’s anything I’ve learned so far is never put your faith or happiness in someone else, no matter how or what that looks like.

Never put your faith in your spouse. They’re fallible and human, they commit to you because you’re convenient, not because they value you for what you are. Every single person can destroy what they claim to love most in the world when they have to respond to enough pressure. I have seen instances where two people would willingly give everything for each other, but no one would ever think I’m worth that kind of commitment. Marriage in our society has been a hollow vow historically entrenched in us by institutionalized religion, now that a human’s ability to communicate reaches beyond moral conveniences in the digital age, people are seeing past that narrative. For better or for worse, I did that. Through sickness and health, I did that. For rich or poor, I did that. To love and cherish, I never stopped doing that. With the instructions set forth by the Sunnah, I did that when she never knew what that meant. In honesty and sincerity, I could never break on that front. I guess that’s why I started thinking polyamory had more truth in it, it’s been difficult for me to believe anyone can earnestly swear to unyielding loyalty, regardless of love’s condition, since I became an adult and I let myself believe otherwise these past years.

Never put faith in your parent or child. Both a parent and child’s understanding of the world are limited to their times. When they clash, it creates immovable conflicts which ripple beyond the scope of the family. A parent putting everything on their child to fulfill their desires imparts all their prior prejudices and hardships onto their child, and the child’s free will is destroyed in that monocle of unhealthy parenting. A child valuing their relationship with their parent stifles them from developing genuine relationships that make better on the limited perspective of their parents; I’ve suffered on both, on the inside and outside of that dynamic. A parent ought to love unconditionally as a child is forced to, yet, when the parent is pushed hard enough, you’ll find that’s never the case. A child ought to be able to follow their free will without pressure, but that’s never made to be the case. I can’t even fathom coming to the conclusion my entire life was forged by my parents with all the opposition I’ve given them, but when I look plainly at the facts, the resistance I’ve given to their absolute vision has been minimal at best. Even though I believe I’ve resisted far greater than a vast majority of people ever could, I know it’s still insignificant.

Never put faith in a holy person. Every purveyor of the divine will be operating under a label which exclusivizes them against contrasting labels. Interreligious convocation is just invalid to them. Frankly, the religious label I was born with I only still use because of societal pressure because I saw this a long time ago. As much as I believe the Aga Khan is wise and has a deeper understanding of life than an insurmountable majority of humans in history could ever have, that undermines as opposed to uplifts his level of respect to those outside of his followers. Instead, some random sheikh who commits visibly greater sin than the Aga Khan has more legitimacy to the greater Ummah (Muslim Community). If these labels are means by which prejudice is enacted, these labels cannot be means for good. Truly, I am Muslim first and Ismaili second but the label holds anyone on the outside back from seeing that.

I can’t love my spouse at maximum because both of us run the risk of losing loyalty, I can’t put everything into my kids lest I unintentionally override their free will from the pressure, I can’t put all my faith into the spirit because this world channels its practice through labels that cause division more than pluralism. Humans can’t be genuinely and unconditionally kind when inconvenienced, never expect anything real out of an imperfect being.

If living for anyone else’s sake is a fallacy, does that mean life itself is selfish? Seeking happiness in a relationship with another, that’s selfish. Making your kids actions be the determiner of your own happiness, that’s selfish. Believing the label you use to describe your beliefs is more correct than anyone else’s, that’s selfish. The claim every person was put on this world to be tested to do a good is wrong if we’re required to be selfish enough to make all of our decisions based on temporal desires, familial pressures, and religious alignment.

The real test in life is a violation of those interests to do good. It requires far more virtue to act outside the realm of what’s convenient to you, what your family wants you to be, and what your religion forces upon you. That’s why I hate doing any of those things even when I’m still doing them because I’m often not given the option to act outside of them. I always found myself to be a metaphysical compatibilist for this reason, an illusion of free will exists which we can act in accordance with but are never presented with the option to.

Knowing this, I can’t believe in any person. Nor can I rightfully: marry, have children, or ascribe to a religion without a serious violation of conveniences. I’ve fought for that belief all my life, I fought hard. I’ve invested when I ever saw someone or something which could’ve agreed with my position in convenience being a restriction on free will. The potential I acted on always failed: making it in the music industry, speech/debate, my relationships. “I thought maybe I had it this time, but it slipped away”. While it’s still a remote possibility for that potential to return, everything has to be put into doubt when it’s not because that’s the default state of the world.

I want to believe in the idealism allowing me to access my free will, that’s why I’m not an incompatibilist. The people in this world are soul-crushing. There’s some person that will always find a way from enacting your own free will: a lover, a parent, a cleric. I want to believe in that dream, but the more I try, the more it fades, and the more it feels like I lost.

Do I break from this? Do I finally give in and be what I sought not to be, a human whose needs are granted in convenience? I don’t want to, but what’s left of my heart may not leave me a choice: it takes resolve to fight and I can’t even tell how much I have left in me with the last piece of potential I believed in still hanging in the balance. I’m willing to do everything to prove to her she is that because I put so much of myself into that belief. Everything I truly am is what breaks those boundaries: convincing her it’s worth the struggle, convincing her mother our souls are equal and reach the same place in acts of faith, convincing the world telling two can’t become one for something affected by anything other than their free will is wrong. If I’m incapable of breaking those boundaries, I don’t know what my free will is anymore. It’s something I feel but could never act on.

Maybe she wasn’t who I thought she was. Maybe she didn’t think marriage outweighs every other decision you can make in your life combined on account of its affect on the soul. Maybe she was just a puppet of her mother and her culture cloaked by a need to be superficially happy. Maybe she couldn’t be happier long-term with someone who pushes her to think to be her best self instead of someone who falls in line with her expectations of convenience. Maybe I was wrong in seeing her potential, but that doesn’t make being disappointed hurt any less because it’s so draining to undo a belief so strong.

I still believe in the person I knew, someone who wanted to get as much of her free will out in the open as possible and chose me as a part of that. I don’t know if that person is gone for good. If she is, I think my idealism has to leave with her and I must live in a life I hadn’t believed in up until this point. A life where no mortal deserves absolute trust. A life where the only things to live for are what’s made convenient to you. In which case, I renounce my ability to believe in free will. I’ll want my offspring to have it, but I’ll unintentionally find a way to oppress it out of them like every parent does. It’s because I have no control. I surrendered to her all of it in faith she would still be the person I knew. If that person was never real, I don’t know what I have left to believe in because I find there’s no point in beliefs without free will.

Nothing in life is forever, but the bond of marriage is eternal. We’re not married yet, so she hasn’t committed herself to me hereafter yet either. The lack of convenience is outweighing what I am to her, that’s why we’re not moving forward. There’s nothing I can say to convince her anymore we’re worth the lack of convenience, the decision is in her hands now. I’ve felt powerless from a sense of belief too many times in my life, this is the time my beliefs will be shown their validity. I have to accept it’s my flaws that caused me to believe in her willingness to overcome convenience, making me as much of a slave to convenience as any other person.

Tl;dr: people suck. I’m a person, I’m no exception to the rule unless someone I chose completely of my own free will and she hath chosen me completely of her own free will shows me differently. I don’t think I’m going to have the resilience to choose like that again.

[ineffablecolors]

The Wife [1/?]

The Wife || Ch 1 ~ 5.2 k || FF.NET&AO3 Summary: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are? A/N: This story was born from this little idea. As you can tell from the summary, it has evolved a lot since then. I’m really excited about this and I want you to have a great experience with me so a couple of things: 1) this is a period piece of sorts in style but I want to be free to make my own rules so don’t expect any historical accuracy. 2) this is very much a CS story and will only become more so but it also has a dose of Knight Rook in it. The Killian Jones here is a nice mix of Hook and Wish!Hook so if that’s your thing - enjoy, if not - no hard feelings. 3) Neal, Regina and Gothel will be the assholes they are. 4) age difference between CS is at about 13 years in case that’s a deal breaker for anyone. This story will require some trigger warnings later on though nothing graphic - revealing them will be a bit spoilery but if you wish to be warned in advance, drop me a message and I’ll give you the gist of anything triggery coming. 5) Enjoy! :*

“This is unacceptable!”

Emma’s shoulders move up and down lightly – lace rustling for a second and then settling back into the serene stillness with which she entered and intends to depart the Nolan residence – not a very lady-like gesture but she supposes – now that she is safely engaged – she needn’t worry quite so much about her every small movement and expression.

“I shall go and talk to her first thing tomorrow.”

She looks up into Mary Margaret Nolan’s fierce eyes – narrowed and flashing like the tips of cocked arrows under her furrowed dark brows. Mary Margaret who never takes anything lying down. Mary Margaret who is the picture of grace and good breeding but the paint for said picture is all potent determination.

Emma slowly cocks her head to the side and marvels at the glow of Mary Margaret. It is not simply the glow of a woman early in her much wanted pregnancy, it is that of a woman who, despite everything she has had to face, seems miraculously, almost magically, protected from disaster. They have both had their fair share of troubles and tribulations but Mary has come out rightfully victorious every time.

Emma, on the other hand, feels like each storm has chipped away a little more of her – dousing her fire bit by painful bit until there is something embarrassingly grey and listless about her now.

“There is no need.”

“Emma—“

“You know what she will say. She knows best. She always knows best.”

“Regina may know a lot, it does not signify that she knows best.”

“Well, then let us hope that she knows well enough.”

She can literally see the anguish on Mary’s face. It pains her. It is not the situation that is causing her friend so much heartache but Emma’s acceptance of it. But while anguish sits prettily on a face as exquisite as Mrs Nolan’s, it is not made to sit there long.

“I believe my cook might know his, I will—“

“Mary, no.”

“But—“

“No. Please. I will not spy on my husband.”

“He is not your husband yet,” Mary declares almost haughtily with that same stubbornness that drew Emma to her years ago.

“He will be.”

Her friend huffs and glares and Emma’s lips tick up at having so quickly demolished Mary’s composure.

“Besides, it is not spying, it is investigating.”

The smile drops and Emma gives her a droll look. Mary waves her hands around as if she is already collecting gossip from the streets and houses of Storybrooke.

“Just because all the gossip is bad doesn’t mean much. I mean—“ she falters. “It is monstrous of Regina to put you in that position no matter— but, well, who knows how much of it is true.”

“Oh, I’m sure some isn’t and plenty is,” Emma waves her own hand in a dismissive gesture. “I will soon find out for myself and until then I do not intend to care for it. Frankly, I don’t intend to care much afterwards either.”

Mary knows her well enough to recognize the truth in her statement. She is not deterred in the least.

“I should put his name to Tink.”

Emma’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession despite herself. Now, she does not know this Captain Killian Jones that she is to marry in a week. She certainly does not care for him. And yet, even she cannot deny the pinprick of irritation at the association of her future husband with Madame Superior and her “fairies”. Even though it is probably a justified one.

“Oh, I did not mean…” Mary’s porcelain skin is only more becoming with a light rose tinge to it. “I just meant as a source of information. You know her… her girls know all.”

“And I will tell you again that I do not wish you to spend time and effort and money acquiring information that I will soon be privy to myself.”

“But don’t you wish to be prepared, Emma?”

“I am. Life has made sure of it.”

There is little Killian Jones can do that will shock Emma.

“I must go, Mary.”

“Of course. But know that I still very much intend to speak to your grandmother tomorrow.”

“Please don’t. It will only sour her mood and make matters worse.”

Emma admires the way Mary Margaret can appear shocked each time she encounters Regina Mill’s wide known animosity for her.

*****

“This is all that evil old viper’s doing.”

“Well, she couldn’t have rightly forced him into it.”

“Like hell she couldn’t.”

Ruby observes her grandmother’s thunderous profile for a few seconds before she returns her attention to the stove, shaking her head. There is probably a person strong headed enough to change Mrs Lucas’s opinion after it has been formed. Ruby just doesn’t know them.

“Would it be quite so bad?” she wonders to herself.

Years she has worked the kitchen beside the old woman, years she has tried to sneak boys and girls past her and sometimes she still forgets how scarily good her hearing is. Marvelous for gossip, horrible for muttering to yourself.

Or sneaking around for that matter.

“Of course it would be! Christ, girl! You were not so young as to have forgotten the last one.”

“Who says she has to be like the last one?”

“She hasn’t even met him – what ya think she is marrying him for?”

“Perhaps—“

“It don’t matter what she is like anyway. The missus left a mark deep enough to last him for the next three, if he wished to have them. Which he doesn’t. Heaven knows why he decided to buckle under Regina Mills now.”

“She is quite pretty. A bit wan and cold but—”

“I’ve seen her pretty. Girl looks like she will be blown off by the first gust of autumn. Infirm. Fragile. Mark my words, Ruby, this Miss Emma is exactly the kind of wife that man doesn’t need. And, God help us, everyone will know it at the first sign of trouble.”

*****

Emma rubs her finger over the blue stone, marveling at the transparent smudges left behind. She lays the earring beside its twin in her modest jewelry box.

“You can leave these with Zelena.”

She turns around to see her grandmother enter her room without ceremony. Privacy is not a thing Emma is used to – especially not in the last ten years, but it doesn’t stop the tingle of annoyance that travels down to her fingertips at the intrusion.

“The jewels. A married woman should expect to receive those from her husband, not her overindulgent grandmother.”

Emma swallows the scoff that wants to bubble out and wills away any sentimental attachment she might have felt for the jewels in the box. She was told some were her mother’s but she feels no compulsion to fight Regina over the belongings of a woman she never knew.

“Of course,” she slams the lid of the wooden box and ignores the displeased look Regina sends her way. “Anything else you wish me to leave behind?”

“Why, I expect you to leave all.”

She whirls around – eyes wide and disbelieving despite her desire to remain cool and collected in her grandmother’s presence. The cruel twist to Regina’s mouth – all wrinkles and spite, shows that her slip has been noticed and greatly appreciated. Emma curses in her mind and curls her hands into fists before she opens her mouth.

“All? You expect me to depart with nothing but the clothes on my back?”

“Your wedding gown should be arriving any day now so you won’t be needing those either.”

“My skirts will be a tad short for Zelena,” Emma spits out, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“And a fair bit tight at the bosom but I’m sure she will alter them accordingly.”

She would laugh, if she wasn’t so keenly aware of the humiliation of it all. Regina settles herself on the lone chair in the room with the regality that Emma has hated as long as she can remember.

“I suppose I should thank you for providing me with what comforts you did, while you saw fit,” Emma says sarcastically as she looks around the small and bare room, trying to regain the higher ground.

“You should,” Regina replies as if scorn and sarcasm were none-existent unless they were coming from her own painted lips. “And you should thank me for arranging it so that you will continue on with a roof over your head now that I am unable to carry the burden of you any longer.”

Emma looks at the grey clouds gathering outside her window and rubs her hands over her arms. To the world beyond that pane of glass her marriage to Captain Killian Jones is mostly a simple case of “widower takes on a young bride”.

At 27, Emma isn’t all that young but she is sufficient for Captain Jones’s 40 years of age. His inferior birth is compensated for by his adequate fortune, his disability by his label of a war hero, his cold manner and abstinence from society by the liberties he allowed his late wife. It has all been presented to Emma very matter-of-factly and, on the whole, the deal is perceived in his favour rather than hers. Some – like Mary Margaret – might even frown and shake their heads at Regina’s sacrificing her to a little known man of reported ill-temper and little value and virtue.

Emma expects to find no peace or comfort in her new home and yet, she feels genuine pity for the way the world has dissected Killian Jones and laid him on the cold slab even for his own future wife to observe and judge, if she so pleases. She doesn’t have much to thank Regina for but how little the world truly knows about her is genuinely among the few favours her grandmother has granted her.

Of course, it has been a favour to Regina herself but Emma is all too willing to benefit as well. Society – and the man himself – doesn’t know what Killian Jones is buying. Emma does. She looks Regina in the eye and marvels at how alive the old woman’s face is – with a vicious energy to trample and ascend but with an energy none the less. She wonders how washed out her own complexion must look in comparison.

“Thank you,” she says without scorn or sarcasm.

Regina’s lips twitch again.

“Of course I cannot do everything for you,” she says smoothly and Emma stiffens.

Stripping her of all her worldly possessions was just a precursor – the groundwork for the true blow Regina has come to deliver, and, even though she can conceive of little she fears anymore, Emma feels her heart double its efforts anxiously.

“I wanted you to know that Captain Jones is not aware of certain… limitations of yours.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I imagine it would make a fine topic for your wedding night.”

“Regina, no. You cannot— He must know before. He—“

“He knows enough,” her grandmother grits out. “He knows what will immediately concern him and you.”

“Knows…,” Emma shakes her head helplessly. “I cannot just—“

“You can do as you please after you have said your vows.”

“You should have told him.”

“But of course! Because you are not a hard enough sell as it is.”

Emma’s mouth shuts audibly.

“He barely sees his own daughter,” Regina says dismissively as she gets to her feet. “You might have no trouble at all.”

*****

“Granny is happy,” Alice whispers sarcastically in her ear before she links her arm through Ruby’s and tugs her away from the dirty plates.

Another servant might have a token protest for her. Ruby does not. Ruby has missed the nervous energy and youthful glow of Alice Jones.

“When isn’t she? My grandmother, the resident termagant.”

She has missed her laugh as well – loud and addictive as always.

“I know I should be all questions and confusion but I’m just too happy to be back,” Alice almost yells out the last part and lets go of Ruby to turn in a circle with her arms spread wide.

Ruby shakes her head fondly. She is glad as well, though she knows it cannot last, knows that – much as she loves her father – it won’t be long before Alice starts feeling homesick and heartsick. She steers them back toward the abandoned picnic.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say he is getting married just to have you back for a bit.”

Alice’s smile turns a bit wistful and she shrugs, smoothing her hopelessly wrinkled skirts.

“I was here just this spring.”

“That was more than three months ago!”

“Well, I’m certain it would’ve cost papa less to take us all for a vacation in Europe than to marry some fabulous lady.”

“She is not all that. Her grandmother was – still likes to think she is, I hear – but this Miss Emma isn’t overly fond of society apparently. Granny says all the worse, she probably thinks herself too good for it but…”

“You think not?” the tentative hope in Alice’s voice mirrors the one in her own heart.

“I hope not.”

Alice drops on the picnic blanket and looks up for the source of the bird song above, her brows furrowed in thought. Ruby has learnt that one can never tell if she is pondering the mysteries of existence or daydreaming about the pudding this evening.

“Why wouldn’t he find someone who really—“

Ruby feels her heart crumble along with Alice’s face but tries to plaster a smile on her own.

“He has you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” the girl sighs dejectedly and Ruby hopelessly searches for a distraction, a way to—

“Miss Lucas, call for doctor Hopper, please!”

Both girls whirl around to see Killian Jones coming toward them with quick strides, the line between his brows as deep as when he pours over his papers. His hat and cravat are absent and the sun glints off the silver streaks in his hair and unkempt beard. They have to talk him into shaving that for the wedding.

“What’s the matter?” Ruby exclaims as Alice scrambles to her feet.

“My daughter,” Jones gestures at the girl in question with a concerned expression. “She has been here a full day now and has yet to get on the new horse I have procured for her.”

Ruby huffs and plants her hands on her hips while Alice unashamedly rolls her eyes at her father.

“I thought we were waiting for the lady of the house.”

Killian drops his faux concern and frowns with true feeling before levelling his girl with a firm look.

“You are the lady of the house and shall wait on no one.”

Alice’s blush is fierce and the way she fiddles with her long arms more befitting an eight-year-old than a young woman of nineteen. Ruby angles her head away so her grin isn’t terribly obvious.

“Come,” Killian extends his right hand to his daughter and she takes it eagerly. “Let us see if I have finally managed to find a beast that you can’t drive to exhaustion in an afternoon.”

*****

“Hmm, it’s quite nice.”

Emma smiles a little at her friend’s reluctant tone. The dress is beautiful, if a bit too ostentatious for Emma’s taste. Not that Emma has ever been given the chance to really find out what her own taste is like. She supposes she never will now. But if garments like this are what she has to content herself with, Emma thinks she hardly has a right to complain.

“So… would you like to hear it?”

“Hear what?” she looks at Mary over her shoulder as she carefully lays her wedding dress aside.

It’s not the dress that has made an impression on Emma but rather the note that accompanied it. She was expecting the former but the latter was a surprise. The fact that it made her smile even more so.

But it doesn’t feel quite right to show that to Mary Margaret. She knows most women – especially married women, especially when it concerns their husbands – have few secrets from their closest confidants but Emma has always been good at keeping secrets. Even from Mrs Nolan.

“What Tink had to say.”

“Mary, you didn’t! I explicitly told you—“

“I didn’t ask her about that. Well, I mean…”

Emma sighs, any impulse to confide in her friend now gone.

“Go on then,” she says tiredly as she sits on the edge of her bed across from Mary.

“Well… Tink said the late Mrs Jones used to come around to Madame Superior’s every month or so…”

Emma sighs again and looks at the white lace that awaits her. There is only one reason wives go to Madame Superior’s – to look for their husbands. What is more, they only do so when things are so bad that they do not care who knows they are there looking for their husbands.

“Yet she assured me she has never seen Captain Jones there.”

“What?”

“I know. I didn’t understand it either but Tink was adamant. She asked around. No one has.”

Why on earth would the wife be there, if the husband was not?

“Was she…” Emma purses her lips, unwilling to finish her thought in Mary Margaret’s presence.

“Hmmm? Oh!” her friend’s eyes widen almost comically. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that. It seemed exactly like any other case – desperate wife looking for her wayward husband but… apparently she didn’t have any luck there.”

Emma frowns deeply, her thoughts starting to run away from her before she waves them off like pesky flies. This is exactly what she wished to avoid.

“Well, I hate to say it but with this information – I hardly think you got your money’s worth, Mary.”

“Tink wanted to avoid my thinking exactly that,” she replies with a glimmer in her eye that immediately makes Emma suspicious. “So she told me something else. Nothing terribly secret I’m sure just… ancient history as they say. That few people seem to know or remember today.”

Emma waits for a beat or two before she realizes that Mary desires to be prompted into revealing the intelligence she has bought. Frankly, she does not care for it, but the last thing she wants is to disappoint her friend.

“Go on then.”

“Well, it appears that Mrs Jones wasn’t supposed to be Mrs Jones at all.”

Emma frowns and feels herself lean slightly forward despite her best intensions. The silence stretches again.

“Are the dramatic pauses truly necessary?”

Mary has the decency to blush.

“Yes, I— Alright, sorry. Apparently, Captain Jones – coming back from the war a hero and all, got engaged to some famous beauty, a Milah something or other. But then, less than a month before the wedding, he called off the whole thing. And not a week later he was married to this Eloise Gardner. And— and a telling number of months later came the baby.”

“Oh,” Emma looks down at her hands in her lap. She hears Mary stand up and come to sit beside her but she doesn’t lift her eyes until her friend’s own delicate hands move to clasp her cold ones.

“Emma, don’t you see? This is wonderful!”

“Wonderful?”

“Of course. When we tell Regina, she will have no choice but to call off—“

“No.”

“I— I beg your pardon?”

“We’re not telling my grandmother or anyone else. She probably knows anyway. As you just said, this does not sound like a secret. Just gossip too old to matter.”

And like Killian Jones at least attempted to fix the mess he’d made.

“Too old to ma— Emma, this sounds like he was engaged to one woman and—“

“Yes, I can do the calculations, Mary.”

“And you do not care?”

“It does not matter, if I care or not.”

“How can—“

“Please, I— I need to prepare for tomorrow.”

Mary sits frozen for a long moment until Emma’s hard look seems to prompt her into action. She is at the door already before she looks back once more.

“When everyone is trying to do wrong by you, Emma, there is no need for you to join them.”

She sits for a few moments, staring at the door long after it has closed behind Mary Margaret’s back. Then her eyes flit over the white lace again and land on the note that had come with it. She leans to the side and reaches over, her fingers snagging the paper’s edge.

Dear Miss Emma,

Your grandmother has provided your measurements and insisted that you need not be consulted about the dress that you shall be married in. It seems a queer custom to me but I should not meddle in your affairs, nor fault you if you have no particular interest in either dress or ceremony.

Unfortunately, I am rather ignorant of the current fashions for young ladies and was thus forced to seek help. I believe my daughter’s tastes often run towards the unusual and somewhat extravagant but I did emphatically ask her to be as sensible as possible.

I sincerely hope the garment chosen is to your satisfaction. But were it not, please, do not hesitate to return it – I have been assured that the seamstress has many more to offer.

Sincerely,

Killian Jones

She taps her finger over the name. By tomorrow night she will be Emma Jones. The fact has brought her neither joy, nor pain since Regina presented it to her. It has hardly ignited her curiosity, even after Mary Margaret’s insistence on scrutinizing Captain Jones. This was always one of the possible outcomes for her – frankly, one of the better ones. She has been prepared.

But it is only now, with this note in her hand, that she feels almost calm.

It appears Killian Jones is simply human after all. She will do well to remember that most humans have shown her little kindness but she still feels better now that her future husband is not just some abstract and malignant force for her to face blindly.

*****

“I do not have any.”

Ruby frowns at the woman before her. She looks so out of place – her white dress and pale face making her appear like a snowflake among the sunshine and purple flowers around them.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am. Should we expect your luggage after the ceremony?”

“No, I— I’m not bringing anything. I have nothing to bring.”

Ruby opens her mouth to rephrase her question yet again but then she notes the way Miss Emma draws a carefully measured breath and tries to keep her back straight, her green eyes everywhere but on Ruby, her posture stiff, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso.

She is embarrassed.

“That’s... I see. Do you need anything at present, ma’am?”

The bride shakes her head but still refuses to look at her and Ruby can’t help but take the opportunity to make her escape.

And now what?

She has to tell someone or the lady of the house will be coming down to breakfast tomorrow in her wedding dress like some crazy, gothic horror bride. Granny is out of the question – she already hates her, learning that the woman’s dowry is nothing but the good weather they’ve been blessed with will certainly only make matters worse. The other servants will be of no help. The grandmother is probably well aware of the situation, if she is not its very maker.

It’s either Killian or Alice. And fate has obviously decided that it shall be both when she spots them as soon as she walks through the French doors.

“Your bride must be a real treasure, Captain Jones, seeing as she comes with none,” Ruby starts brusquely and less kindly than she intended.

Killian blinks at her in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The mistress has come with literally nothing but the dress on her back.”

“I do not understand,” Killian huffs and pulls on the cuffs of his left sleeve, fidgeting the way he has been every time someone mentioned his future wife. “What is the issue? I assured Regina she will be provided with all that she needs.”

“Splendid,” Ruby claps her hands together. “Shall I take her shopping right now or in two hours after you are quite finished with the ceremony?”

“I am sure tomorrow will be agreeable, Ruby.”

“And should I take her shopping in her wedding dress?”

Killian blinks at her a couple of times before he seems to grasp the full extent of the situation. Something dark and thunderous passes over his face and Ruby almost regrets telling him. The woman seemed embarrassed enough as it was, Ruby did not wish to get her into even more trouble.

But the cloud passes as quickly as it appeared and now Killian’s expression is one she is much more familiar with – cool and businesslike.

“I can give her a few things,” Alice chimes in before her father can open his mouth.

“Sweetheart—“

“No, truly, it’s no bother. The measurements for the wedding dress were similar enough. Similar enough for a nightgown and a dress to wear for a day.”

Ruby is already rocking on her heels, ready to go, as Killian mulls the suggestion over. His sigh is resignation and fondness all at once.

“Very well. Put some sleeping garments and a couple of Alice’s dresses in her room and take her to the shops first thing tomorrow, understood?”

*****

She is going to tell him before they get to that alter. That’s the single thought that Emma repeated to herself like a mantra on the ride to her future home. And now that they are here her determination is cold and heavy as lead where it sits in her stomach and Regina’s fingers are like claws where they clamp onto her arm.

“Now you listen to me. If you walk out of this place an unmarried woman – you are walking out on the street.”

Her breath is nauseatingly sweet but her threat is thankfully sharp and short as usual. In the next second Regina is making her way across the garden as if she owns every blade of grass and flower bloom and Emma heads inside the house to put as much distance between them as possible.

The sun is shining brightly for “her special day” and it takes her eyes a few seconds to blink away the white spots and adjust to the dimness inside. She lets them take in the home that she will soon bind herself to because simply stepping in has made it painfully clear to Emma that she is a coward and will not be seeking out her betrothed for an audience before the ceremony. She knows Regina makes no idle threats.

It is a moderately sized house and she is glad for it – a little bigger and it would’ve felt daunting, a little smaller and she would’ve felt trapped. The Jones’s home is well-kept even if it doesn’t look particularly lived in. The light seems to enter muted and subdued and aside from the powder white curtains, most of the interior is dark and somehow severe. She encounters at least half a dozen moaning floorboards on her walk around the ground floor. With all the guests out in the garden, the only other sound is her soft gasp when she peaks into the library.

Now, Emma isn’t inordinately fond of books but she is completely enamored with libraries – with the quietness and safety of them. A library in a house is little less than the eye in the middle of the storm, far as she is concerned. Unfortunately, it looks like it is also the room that sees the most of the family, if all the scattered books, writing implements and glasses left to ring the wooden surfaces are anything to go buy. She hums when she spots all the nautical touches – Killian Jones is a naval man on more than just paper.

But Emma does not care about furniture or decorations, about how light or dark the house is, she does not even care that the library probably won’t become her sanctuary. All she cares about is that unlike Regina’s imposing residence, there is scarcely any stone or marble to be seen, most of everything is made of dark, polished wood, covered in thick carpets and filled with deep settees. All she cares about is that it’s not freezing cold.

The first rumor about Killian Jones that falls apart in front of her eyes is that he does not care much for his daughter. Emma stands just behind the door through which she is supposed to enter the garden and watches Alice Jones adjust her father’s cravat. She never knew her own parents but if she had, the way Captain Jones is looking at his daughter is the way she would’ve dreamt of them looking at her at least once.

Soon – too soon – admiral Liam Jones strides toward them like he is about to gather his fleet and send them into battle. She knows he is slightly older than his brother but one would never be able to tell by looking at them. Liam Jones’s greying strands are just a soft accent in his lighter hair, he is clean-shaven and filling out his jacket just right. He stands tall and confident and seemingly ready for anything.

As he ushers his brother and niece toward the plain arch where the small ceremony will take place, Emma knows someone will soon come to collect her as well so she takes a shaky breath and prays it’s not Regina.

She gets her first proper look at Killian Jones when she comes to stand across from him at the altar and Killian Jones looks every bit his age and then some. She finds him much more handsome than his brother and infinitely sadder. His own broad shoulders exude exhaustion and the lines on his face speak of more agitation than laughter. His eyes are the bluest she has ever seen and for a moment Emma is afraid they will chill her even more. But Killian’s eyes are warm, if tired, impossibly deep, if carefully guarded. His voice sounds like a smoking room and the grey in his dark hair stands out like a shock to the body after a stiff drink. She supposes a lady should not know how that feels. Killian looks like he knows how that feels. He looks like he would like to be reminded right this second, in the middle of their proclamations to “love and cherish”.

Despite the bright sun and the soft breeze, Emma feels cold the way she always does. It could be her imagination or it could be that her fingernails are really tinged blue. When they are pronounced husband and wife, Killian’s lips feel scorching hot at the corner of her mouth. It is the briefest of touches and she feels the seed of gratitude within her as he pulls away.

Then she thinks what a ridiculous pair they make – a frigid cold bride and an already exhausted groom. This will go marvelously.

Tagging a bunch of cuties who were interested in the idea: @bmbbcs4evr@laschatzi @darkcolinodonorgasm @shireness-says @profdanglaisstuff @courtorderedcake @passports-and-postagestamps @nikkiemms @winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @sherlockianwhovian @mayquita @cocohook38 @naiariddle @omgdgeorge @aloha-4-ever @idristardis @snotelek @mashipssm @yasbio2015 If you wanna be tagged in future updates (or if you want me to fuck off your mentions :D), just drop me a line ;)

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The Turmoils of Technology: Snowpiercer and Westworld and the Exploration through Media of the Future of Humanity and Advancements

The film Snowpiercer, directed by Bong Joon-ho in 2013, begins by clearly stating that the dystopian state of the world it predicts is completely humanity’s fault. Based on a real plan, the film shows the world enacting an experimental plan in order to stop global warming. But instead, the experimentation results in a new ice age taking over the world, with the only supposed survivors those on the Snowpiercer train, which was initially designed as a traveling vacation, with it constantly on a journey circling the Earth. The film was the first english film for the South Korean director, and it is produced in part by Park Chan-wook, who is famous for directing the original Oldboy, along with other successful films. The actor who plays Nomgoong Minsoo, Song Kang-ho, also starred in Bong Joon-ho’s other most well-known film, The Host, as well as two other famous Park Chan-wook films, and the successful 2016 film, The Age of Shadows. This film is an adaptation of a french graphic novel, La Transperceneige, but the director understood that he had to make a new plot and new characters to really make the film his own story.

Dystopian films have risen in popularity in the past few years. This seems to be due to the fact that the genre allows filmmakers to discuss and prophesize about issues that are being tackled in the present, without necessarily making a statement of what will definitely become of us in the future. With almost every film or piece of media set in the future, there is the presence of new technology and innovations, along with the mistakes that come from these discoveries. In this film, the majority of the technology present is the train, and its many different train cars. Despite the clear ability of the people at the front of the train to grow food and have enough space and comfort to live well, the back still lives a life in squalor. As they progress through the train to the front, with a plan to get to the mystical “Wizard of Oz” type of character, Wilford, we see along with the characters the progression of technology and care as they pass through each car.  

Almost everything in the film is a metaphor, and the train is no exception. The whole film is set on this train, with the heroes from the end of the train attempting to move forward towards the front, taking a higher status, when in reality, they are stuck in the cycle of humanity. The image of a train, or any sort of vehicle, is usually to get the characters physically and mentally to a destination. In most cases, there is an end to the journey. But in this film, the dystopian reality has placed these people in this neverending cycling train as it continues around and around the globe, with no exit in sight. Even though the world seems to have already ended at the beginning of the film, humanity is still stuck repeating its mistakes.

Every year the train has a day where they drive past a group of people frozen moving up a snowy hill. The image is stark and emotional. These people had attempted to leave their oppressive life on the train, but ended up stuck in their place forever, just like on the train. The annual recognition and attention made to the figures is done to manipulate everyone. We see the young children near the front of the train being conditioned by the teacher with this image, and the message to the people outside made the wrong decision. The people at the front of the train like the cycle they are in. Despite the weather outside, they live in luxury, with very few worries and their life taken care of for them. Just like in society today, very few people in the highest class of the economy care for the lower classes. On the train, the rich never have to venture to the back of the train, and because of the separation, they never have to see them at all, which further allows them to ignore their existence (Doyle).

Just as the train’s circle becomes broken, derailing the train and stopping its constant movement, the characters in the film, mainly Curtis, and Gilliam, his mentor, are attempting to overcome the cycle of humanity that they have been stuck in, even before the ice age. In the initial scene on the train, we see the soldiers who manage the back group of people, forcing them into lines to count them and control them. Curtis, right from the beginning, shows himself as separate from the group, or in a way leading it, as he continues standing tall as the rest fall to their knees around him. In his decision to finally sit down, he is choosing to continue hiding in the group before he takes action. The literal visual of standing up against the rulers is continued throughout the film. When a woman is attacked, Edgar stands up as all the others sit, and Curtis must force him to sit down, as he knows that they are unable to make a difference at this point. After Mason gives her speech during a tail member’s punishment, Gilliam, despite having a crutch, most likely representative of his handicap to the tail section forced on him by Wilford, decides to stand up for his people, and sacrifices his life for them, as the rest of the team, save the daughter and son, do as well in their journey.

The attitude of the people in the rest on the train for the people in the back is that they are animals or objects to be used. They are corralled and counted like cattle, and when someone in the front requested a violinist, they expect the back to be easily manipulated and willing to serve the front, as if it were an honor. Along with that, the soldiers believe that the people in the back must obviously have lower intelligence than them. After he receives no answer of a violinist, he begins to yell and mime the action, as if they cannot speak english, despite most living on the train almost their whole life. When a man and woman come forward as having played violin, the man is happy to speak of his past skill and status. He talks about being part of a symphony orchestra, and being first chair, a high honor in the career of a musician. The soldier asks the man if he can still play, as if his time at the back would’ve altered him and made him less smart or capable of remembering. He responds that of course he can, as learning an instrument in life is much like riding a bike. But the soldier doesn’t trust a person of this low class to be telling the truth, and so he asks to see his hands. When the man refuses to go to the front without his wife, Doris, she is attacked, and her hand broken. It is symbolic of their value to the front. As the soldier repeated, “they only need your hands.” In reality, if they could, they would easily do without the human personality in the body of the man, and only have his skill for music. The uniform perspective they have continues on in their wardrobe, as they are all covered in dirt, making them hard to even tell apart. For food, they all receive rectangles of somewhat edible material, found later to be made of cockroaches.

In our past, when we have seen depictions of events where people must be saved, it is usually decided that the women and children must be saved first. As for the tail-section, the controllers of the train see them as valuable, but not as humans, only tools for use. The director discussed in an interview that, as visible in the film, there are very few women in the back of the train. He said that they are taken to the front, to work in clubs, or probably to ensure reproduction of the rich, and hinder the tail section from having children. The women left behind are usually old and left to take care of the children. Bong Joon-ho said that he planned to shoot a scene in a train car showing more of the women near the front, but as the production cost was already the most expensive Korean production at $40 million, there was little room for any additions (Gim Bong-seok)

As for the children, they are just as much a tool for the train. While the soldiers lie to the tail, saying that they need to medically inspect the children, they are really seeing if they are the correct size for a special job in the front of the change. At the end of the film it is revealed that these small children are being selected to fit into a tiny area in the engine room and work nonstop to keep the train going. Even the rich children, who we see in the classroom car, are manipulated to be controlled and used.

The film has a somewhat diverse cast and story. While Chris Evans is his white male lead, Octavia Spencer is one of the supporting characters, along with Song Kang-ho, who was in his past film, and Ko Ah-sung, who are both South Korean and play father and daughter, and the relationship is featured heavily in the film. As all his past films were in Korean, Bong has also rightfully chosen to feature his language in a portion of the film. The father daughter pair only speak Korean, but due to the advanced technology on the train, a device is able to translate any language to allow everyone to understand one another. This is key for this story, as the train was clearly a global project, and their would’ve been people from all over vacationing on the train, and then in turn being trapped on it. Song’s character Minsoo is also the specialist who designed the technology for the walls and barriers of the train. He is another example, like in Westworld, the future science fiction show, where an advancement in technology can lead to consequences and too much control. In Snowpiercer’s case, Minsoo’s technology went into the wrong hands, when Wilford got control of it. And in order to maintain that control, Wilford had Minsoo and his daughter put in prison, essentially a slot in a morgue, on the train, also fuelling their addictions to a drug on board. This idea is illustrated from the start of the film, with the beginning credits featuring a narration describing how an attempt to lower the world’s temperatures with technology resulted in the ice age setting of the story.

Visually, the film is very vibrant, but in subtle ways, and the colors are representative of different things as well. At the end of the train, with the low class people, the color is dull and only varying shades of gray, black, or other neutrals. As they move up the train, more colors are present, in people clothes and the design in the cars. Color equals status. When the woman arrives to find a child and take them away, we see the first bright pop of color in her yellow jacket. To the viewer, this color becomes a stain on the tail-section, and ever later pop of obnoxious color brings a feeling of dread and hate. Surrounded by the composition of grays, blacks, and browns, the yellow is a stark and unwelcoming image.

Mason, the advisor sent to dole out justice to the tail section from the front, is another vibrant, unwelcome image, who lackadaisically comes in and starts lecturing the group in a bright purple dress and a fur coat. She is even called “Sir” by the men standing by, showing her status, as gender clearly is a factor in the politics of the train. She then gives a speech on the metaphorical vision of the train, calling herself a “hat,” and the tail section people a “shoe.” She repeats the phrase “So it is,” which is a reference to Kurt Vonnegut’s novel Slaughterhouse Five. In the book, he repeats the phrase “So it goes” after any big event or death, in order to show that life is as it is, and somethings cannot be explained (Snowpiercer). Mason attempts to use her phrasing to ensure that the tail section sees their position at the back as unchangeable, and just how to train needs to work to continue, as if it is their destined role to play.  

The films main emotions explored are desperation and control, and how far people will go to get what they desire. The high class individuals are desperate for comfort and control, while the low class people are desperate for change, and in order to create the change they need, they must have control over the engine room at the very front of the train. “We control the engine, we control the world.” The front section is confident in their control over the tail, but they still are extremely strict in their protocols. There are many doors blocking the tail from the rest, and soldiers at every point. The tail section has attempted revolutions in the past, but were unable to gain control of the engine, so they lost. In the end of this film, Curtis realizes that if the tail gained control of the engine, it would only continue the cycle they are stuck in, but with rotated positions. They plan the revolution as a chance to make themselves the ones in charge, though it changes little. Edgar also sees the plan this way. He idolizes Curtis, naive to his past, and sees it as natural for him to rise up and rule the tail-section after Gilliam dies. He only sees the continuation of the life he is currently living, following orders set for him and trying to survive. But for Gilliam, and later Curtis, they understand that the change must be more than that. In order to truly stop the controlled world they live in and rebuild, the train, and therefore the cycle, must be broken. Curtis sacrifices himself to allow the continuation of humanity on the right path, or even just to stop the repeated brutality that life was.

Westworld as a television series is just as much an examination of humanity and our future in technology, and it shares with Snowpiercer a star in Ed Harris. The show, based on a movie from the 1970’s, is about an advanced, possible future in which our technology has advanced so far that we can produce robots who appear completely human, and can possible achieve consciousness, overcoming humanity. It explores the idea that our advancements in technology can possibly make our race absolute, and bring in something better, but ultimately more dangerous.

As in Snowpiercer, the tail-section, suppressed group of people are the robots in Westworld. All of our sympathy goes to them, and we root for their success in overcoming their programming and revolting against their controllers. When Maeve, a “host” in the park, begins to remember the mistreatment that she receives from guests everyday, we feel a calm sense of justice in her plans to save herself. Though created and designed by humans, the hosts have just as much humanity as the humans, maybe even more so, as the park seems to mostly be a place of freedom for the rich to live out their most sinful fantasies. We see brutal torture and rape, along with many other crimes, as these men and women choose to do things that should have punishments. But as they see the hosts as simply tools for their use, there is no respect for them, and for some characters, this lack of humanity and respect is further transferred to the humans as well, illustrated by the human by human murders that also occur in this universe.

William, a character that we later discover to be the young Man in Black, played by Ed Harris, is the ultimate representation of how technology and unsupervised control and power can corrupt humanity. He is brought into the park by his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Logan, who planned to sue the visit to bring out the darker side of William, but his plan went too far. William, choosing to take a symbolic white hat at his entrance to the park, seems gentle and warm-hearted, and voices his disapproval of Logan’s violent and sinful actions. But after falling in love with one of the hosts, and trying to save her from the park after she gets lost, he decides to do anything to find her, and that includes becoming violent and manipulative, even killing a whole army of hosts. After he finally finds Dolores, the host he fell in love with, back at the entrance to the park with no recollection of their interactions, William loses all faith and humanity, and uses his wealth gained from his marriage to wreak havoc in Westworld, doing anything to find a deeper reality in the park. When we meet the Man in Black, William’s older self, he is extremely destructive and evil to the hosts, using them to find a supposed maze, which in reality is for the hosts, to help them gain personal consciousness. He continues down this dark search, and only finds happiness in the park when the unbelievable is achieved, and the hosts finally can think for themselves, and revolt against their creators.

William’s desire for the ultimate advancement in technology, the ability to create fully fleshed-out humans from synthetic material, drove him to madness. And with that accomplished, and the hosts’ ability to regenerate and heal after death, humans are useless. William wanted to witness the end of our species, and the advancement of another. Like Curtis, who realizes that his sacrifice is essential to the restart of the Earth and society, William, in a completely selfish way, understands as well that the hosts are better than humans, and may inevitably destroy them. But while Curtis made his decision for the good of others, William, a lonely and controlling old man, pursues this quest solely for his personal pleasure.

For the robots of Westworld, the robots are designed to be unable to hurt the human visitors. Interestingly, when watching their journey to self-actualization, we see progress when they begin to act as the humans do. When one of the head designers at the Delos Company visits Dolores to question her, she promises, as expected from the hosts, that she could never harm a living thing. Then, after the worker has left, we see that “when she smacks a fly dead against her neck, her smile stays dreamy. She can lie and she can kill--that’s how we know she’s becoming a real girl” (Nussbaum). The robots are designed to be relatively gentle to the human visitors, and some are written to portray strong caring emotions as well, shown in Dolores and Teddy’s romantic storyline. But the strongest emotions seem to draw out their humanity. Maeve gains her freedom from remembered anger and sadness at her host daughter’s death, while Dolores found it in her close past relationship with Arnold, her creator, who forced her to kill all the other hosts and himself in order to stop them from being abused by visitors.

Both the hosts and the tail car members are slaves to the controllers, the company and the people at the front of the train. And once the hosts become self-aware, they are the same as Curtis, Gilliam and the followers, and by the end of the season, they make the choice to fight back against those who have wronged them. Maeve, one of the featured hosts, realizes her situation early on, as she has memories from an earlier period of her existence in the part, where the Man in Black shot her and her daughter. This was a key moment for both characters. Maeve, despite being shot multiple times, fights back and tries to save her daughter and run away from William. For William, this is the first interaction, after his history with Dolores, where he sees a host portray humanity and react to the horrors he does to them.

Like in Ex Machina, Dolores and Maeve resemble Ava in her search for freedom. Ava, along with the previous versions, were all prisoners to Nathan’s control as their creator, and Dolores and Maeve have the same situation with Ford. Ford and Nathan both realize that they have successfully created humanity in these women. With Nathan we see a creator that takes extreme pride in his control, almost sadistically so. Despite the fact that Ava passes the test he sets for her, he still plans to keep and alter her, mind wiping her much like the Delos employees wipe the hosts each night. The control is able to continue as long as the synthetic humans stay naive to their humanity and possible freedom. In Snowpiercer, Ava and the hosts in their ignorant state are quite like the innocent and young higher class people, who are unaware of the class issues and the reality of their society. Once the hosts gain the insight to their situation, they resemble the tail section, planning and fighting for freedom from their oppressors. Ava only tries to escape Nathan when she realizes that she is being tested to pass as a human.

Both Westworld and Snowpiercer display a possible situation of humanity versus the dominating advancements of technology. We are victims to our own curiosity and desire for more. Whether it’s for control or power, it seems widely understood that humanity’s demise will most likely come from our own hands. Through film and other media, creative minds are able to portray horrific possibilities and discuss these issues while still allowing entertainment for the viewers.

Works Cited

Bong-seok, Gim. "읽을거리 - '설국열차' 봉준호 감독 인터뷰." 읽을거리 - '설국열차' 봉준호 감독

인터뷰. N.p., n.d. Web. 11 Dec. 2016.

Doyle, Sady. "In ‘Snowpiercer,’ Revolution Is Brutal—And Necessary." In These Times. N.p., 22 July

2014. Web. 12 Dec. 2016.

Ex Machina. Dir. Alex Garland. Universal Studios, 2015. DVD.

Nussbaum, Emily. "The Meta-Politics of “Westworld”." The New Yorker. N.p., 19 Oct. 2016. Web. 12

Dec. 2016.

Snowpiercer. Dir. Bong Joon-ho. Weinstein Company, 2013. DVD.

Westworld. Home Box Office, 2016. Online.

[brentrogers]

Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It

“I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody and they’re going to find me out.” – Maya Angelou

Any minute now they would find out.

I scanned the large conference room. The twenty-six project team members around the table discussed data analysis. Their voices were muffled by the thick fog of my anxiety.

My own throat tried to choke me, and my chest refused to expand. Sweat trickled down my side.

Breathe, just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

My eyes met my boss’s and he smiled at me across the room. I quickly looked down at my notes. My cheeks were burning.

I knew what was coming.

It would be my turn next to showcase my part of the project. I had been working on it for months. Starting early, staying late, slaving away every waking hour, perfecting every detail.

But I couldn’t hide any longer. Couldn’t pretend any more. I would be exposed.

In a few minutes they would discover that my efforts weren’t up to scratch. That I wasn’t good enough.

They would listen to my presentation and their faces would darken with disappointment. They would whisper to each other in dismay and ask me questions I couldn’t answer.

And then, someone would stand up, point at me and say, “You have no clue what you are talking about, do you? You are nothing but a fraud. A pathetic excuse for a scientist. You know nothing.”

Any minute now.

I clutched the edge of the table. Tears stung in my eyes and I swallowed hard. My intestines were churning.

I had to get away.

Leaping to my feet, I mumbled an excuse. I stumbled out of the room, heart racing, and made it to the bathroom.

And then I cried.

Why I Was an Imposter by Name but Not by Nature

I eventually managed to pull myself together. I washed my face, blew my nose, took several deep breaths.

And I returned to the fateful meeting, red-eyed and swollen. Feigning an allergic reaction to conceal my mortifying episode.

I presented my work.

And nothing happened. Nobody objected, interrogated, exposed. No fingers were pointed at me.

All I saw was friendly faces and approving nods. Some people even praised the huge amount of work I put in and the high quality of my results.

And yet, as I shuffled home that night, drained and numb, I didn’t feel like celebrating a success. Because all I could think was, “You were lucky this time. Next time they will realize that you are a fraud for sure. Then game over.”

And right there, on a gloomy November evening of 2007, it hit me. I had a problem. It was ruining my life, destroying my confidence, and sabotaging my career.

I had to do something about it.

As I arrived home, I googled “feeling like a fraud at work” and discovered that I wasn’t alone. The problem seemed to be so common, there was even a name for it: imposter syndrome.

And I displayed all the symptoms.

I doubted myself and my abilities, believing my skills and expertise always fell short of expectations. No matter how hard I tried, my successes seemed negligible, laughable compared to others. And I could never believe anybody who told me I did a good job.

Imposter syndrome was clearly the problem I faced. But the word “imposter” didn’t match up with what I experienced every day at the office.

I wasn’t maliciously trying to deceive other people, tricking them into believing I was more knowledgeable, competent, and successful than I was for my own fraudulent gain.

In fact, the opposite was true.

I didn’t pretend to be more than I was to further my career and take advantage of innocent people. No, I was hiding my weaknesses and shortcomings as well as I could. So others wouldn’t discover my devastating secret.

I just didn’t know it yet.

The Reveal of the True Reason Behind My Imposter Syndrome

For the next couple of years, I searched for a way to eradicate my imposter syndrome. I read self-help books, took personal growth courses, meditated, visualised.

And things improved.

After a while, the all-consuming panic of being exposed as a fraud receded. I managed to better compose myself in meetings and presentations. And I even started to accept praise here and there with an awkward smile and only a slight cringe.

But still, the stubborn, anxious voiceover kept playing in the background of my mind, every day of my life: “You are a fraud. And, one day soon, they will find you out.”

Frustration about being stuck in an endless self-degrading loop turned to anger about my inability to overcome my imposter syndrome. Why was I so horrified of being exposed?

My conscious mind knew that I was doing quite well. That I was good at my work. And that, even if my failings were to be uncovered, it wouldn’t be the end of my career.

Or my life.

Yet, I remained terrified of that one question that would hit my blind-spot. And I anticipated the accusing finger whenever my work came under scrutiny. Because my subconscious mind believed that being exposed as my flawed self was, in fact, the end.

I just didn’t know why.

Until, some months later in May 2010, I participated in a group hypnotherapy session. We were asked to retrieve memories of a scene in our past where our most damaging belief originated. And while I couldn’t conjure up the past, a limiting belief shot into my brain and made me gasp.

Because it explained all of my struggles with imposter syndrome.

The Heartbreaking Belief That Destroyed My Life and Sabotaged My Career

“I don’t have the right to exist.”

The brutality of the thought broke my heart and filled my eyes with tears. Why would I believe something like this?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it made sense. I constantly felt the necessity to work harder, be better, achieve more to justify my existence. To prove to myself and others that it was okay for me to stick around as long as I was useful.

Even though I was an illegal immigrant to life.

As long as I showed no weakness, made no mistake, and contributed more than my fair share to society, I would be tolerated. Others would overlook the fact that I shouldn’t actually exist. That I was some kind of accident, a glitch in the universal plan.

But being exposed as anything less than perfect would result in my temporary residency in life to be revoked.

And I knew, deep in my heart, that I wasn’t faultless, that I struggled. I only faked the perfect version of myself that fulfilled all the qualifying criteria stipulated in my provisional residence permit.

I didn’t have the required knowledge, expertise or success to permanently occupy a space in this life.

I was a fraud. Pretending to belong in this life when I did not. Every day, I desperately clung to the hope that I could blind everyone around me just one more day. But I lived with the constant terror that my devastating secret would be exposed.

Sure, my conscious mind understood that my fear was irrational.

What did I think would happen if I was exposed as a fraud with no permission to exist? Would I just cease to be? Vanish in a purple puff of smoke?

I knew it made no sense. Yet, the believe was lodged deep inside of me. And I was about to find out why.

The Disastrous Reason I Believed I Didn’t Have the Right to Exist

In September 2010, I consulted an energy healer to help with my, at the time, severe anxiety. I mentioned that I struggled with imposter syndrome and the belief that I didn’t have the right to exist.

And she looked at me and said, “Of course you do. Because you have no self-worth.”

It was the piece of the puzzle I needed. Suddenly, it all made sense.

I believed that I was inherently worthless. And that I didn’t have the right to exist as long as I had no worth.

So, my entire life was a relentless pursuit of more worth. All the long hours, the hard work, all the perfecting happened in the name of worth generation. To earn the right to exist.

But I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

I needed to gain wealth, love, abundance to have enough worth to receive a permanent right to exist. But I wasn’t worthy enough to deserve them.

I had to be a success, but I was terrified that achieving greatness would draw too much attention on myself. And the fact that I was alive without the proper permissions.

So, my inherent worthlessness made it impossible to claim the right to exist. And without the right to exist, I could never achieve what I needed to earn enough worth.

It was a hopeless, futile quest. Without prospect of a solution. And it left me only one option: to pretend, to be a fraud.

And hope nobody would ever find out.

The Impossible Conundrum of a Worthless Existence

I had no clue how to dig myself out of this rut. How could I accumulate enough worth to earn the right to exist so I wouldn’t have to feel like a fraud ever again?

I had hit a wall in my quest. There seemed to be no solution, only pointless rumination that spiralled in endless circles. Was I doomed to hide in the shadows, unable to ever rightfully claim my place in life?

I was about to surrender to my fate as an unwanted pretender, a slave to my imposter syndrome and worthlessness. But then my daughter was born.

And one realization changed everything.

The Key to Unlocking Your Worth

About three weeks after her birth, I looked at my little girl sleeping peacefully. Her chest moved in a healthy rhythm and a tiny smile played around her lips.

My heart filled with adoration for this wonderful creation, and I knew that she was valuable. That she had every right to exist in this world and deserved all the love, happiness, and abundance this life has to offer.

Yet, she had no achievements, no wealth or success to pay for her right to exist. She had never earned any worth. And she didn’t have to.

Because worth was the essence of her being, the core of her true Self. She was worth personified.

And so was I, and everybody else. Because true, inner worth cannot be destroyed. It is as constant as our cell structure, it doesn’t change when we fail, are criticized or make a mistake.

The realization was life-changing. The sudden relief felt as if I medium-sized mountain range fell of my chest. I didn’t have to prove my worth!

Society had taught me all my life that I needed high-flying achievements, perfection, wealth to deserve the right to exist. But they were wrong. My entire belief system that caused my struggles was flawed.

Because the truth was that, like my little daughter, I was worth.

As such I could never be worthless. I had the right to exist, to claim my rightful place in life and my happiness right here and now. Simply because I was alive.

And I finally had the cure for my imposter syndrome.

How to Stop Feeling Like a Fraud Once and for All

So, I started to affirm: “I have the right to exist. I am worth” several times a day. Every time I felt insecure, worthless, or like a fraud, I reminded myself of my infinite, inherent worth.

At first, my mind resisted the change. Worthlessness thinking had become a disastrous habit that my mind wasn’t willing to abandon without a fight. But I persevered.

And eventually, over a few months, I retrained my mind. I created a new, healthier habit.

I noticed that I didn’t feel inferior so often, that my confidence in meetings improved. I no longer felt apologetic for taking up space or bothering people. And I became less demanding of myself, lovingly accepting and respecting my limits because I knew perfection, or its absence, wouldn’t change my worth.

And one day, I realized that the fear of being exposed if I drew too much attention to myself was gone. And without that fear, I found it easier to stand up to others and defend my opinions. I even started to acknowledge and celebrate my successes.

Now, I am no longer terrified of the accusing finger pointing me out as an imposter. I no longer need to pretend to be more than I am. Because I know I am not a fraud.

I am enough. From the day I was born to the day I will die, and beyond, I will have the right to exist.

Because I am worth.

Just like you.

This post courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

Photo by John Noonan on Unsplash.

The post Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It first appeared on World of Psychology.

Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It syndicated from

[whorchataaa]

Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It

“I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody and they’re going to find me out.” – Maya Angelou

Any minute now they would find out.

I scanned the large conference room. The twenty-six project team members around the table discussed data analysis. Their voices were muffled by the thick fog of my anxiety.

My own throat tried to choke me, and my chest refused to expand. Sweat trickled down my side.

Breathe, just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

My eyes met my boss’s and he smiled at me across the room. I quickly looked down at my notes. My cheeks were burning.

I knew what was coming.

It would be my turn next to showcase my part of the project. I had been working on it for months. Starting early, staying late, slaving away every waking hour, perfecting every detail.

But I couldn’t hide any longer. Couldn’t pretend any more. I would be exposed.

In a few minutes they would discover that my efforts weren’t up to scratch. That I wasn’t good enough.

They would listen to my presentation and their faces would darken with disappointment. They would whisper to each other in dismay and ask me questions I couldn’t answer.

And then, someone would stand up, point at me and say, “You have no clue what you are talking about, do you? You are nothing but a fraud. A pathetic excuse for a scientist. You know nothing.”

Any minute now.

I clutched the edge of the table. Tears stung in my eyes and I swallowed hard. My intestines were churning.

I had to get away.

Leaping to my feet, I mumbled an excuse. I stumbled out of the room, heart racing, and made it to the bathroom.

And then I cried.

Why I Was an Imposter by Name but Not by Nature

I eventually managed to pull myself together. I washed my face, blew my nose, took several deep breaths.

And I returned to the fateful meeting, red-eyed and swollen. Feigning an allergic reaction to conceal my mortifying episode.

I presented my work.

And nothing happened. Nobody objected, interrogated, exposed. No fingers were pointed at me.

All I saw was friendly faces and approving nods. Some people even praised the huge amount of work I put in and the high quality of my results.

And yet, as I shuffled home that night, drained and numb, I didn’t feel like celebrating a success. Because all I could think was, “You were lucky this time. Next time they will realize that you are a fraud for sure. Then game over.”

And right there, on a gloomy November evening of 2007, it hit me. I had a problem. It was ruining my life, destroying my confidence, and sabotaging my career.

I had to do something about it.

As I arrived home, I googled “feeling like a fraud at work” and discovered that I wasn’t alone. The problem seemed to be so common, there was even a name for it: imposter syndrome.

And I displayed all the symptoms.

I doubted myself and my abilities, believing my skills and expertise always fell short of expectations. No matter how hard I tried, my successes seemed negligible, laughable compared to others. And I could never believe anybody who told me I did a good job.

Imposter syndrome was clearly the problem I faced. But the word “imposter” didn’t match up with what I experienced every day at the office.

I wasn’t maliciously trying to deceive other people, tricking them into believing I was more knowledgeable, competent, and successful than I was for my own fraudulent gain.

In fact, the opposite was true.

I didn’t pretend to be more than I was to further my career and take advantage of innocent people. No, I was hiding my weaknesses and shortcomings as well as I could. So others wouldn’t discover my devastating secret.

I just didn’t know it yet.

The Reveal of the True Reason Behind My Imposter Syndrome

For the next couple of years, I searched for a way to eradicate my imposter syndrome. I read self-help books, took personal growth courses, meditated, visualised.

And things improved.

After a while, the all-consuming panic of being exposed as a fraud receded. I managed to better compose myself in meetings and presentations. And I even started to accept praise here and there with an awkward smile and only a slight cringe.

But still, the stubborn, anxious voiceover kept playing in the background of my mind, every day of my life: “You are a fraud. And, one day soon, they will find you out.”

Frustration about being stuck in an endless self-degrading loop turned to anger about my inability to overcome my imposter syndrome. Why was I so horrified of being exposed?

My conscious mind knew that I was doing quite well. That I was good at my work. And that, even if my failings were to be uncovered, it wouldn’t be the end of my career.

Or my life.

Yet, I remained terrified of that one question that would hit my blind-spot. And I anticipated the accusing finger whenever my work came under scrutiny. Because my subconscious mind believed that being exposed as my flawed self was, in fact, the end.

I just didn’t know why.

Until, some months later in May 2010, I participated in a group hypnotherapy session. We were asked to retrieve memories of a scene in our past where our most damaging belief originated. And while I couldn’t conjure up the past, a limiting belief shot into my brain and made me gasp.

Because it explained all of my struggles with imposter syndrome.

The Heartbreaking Belief That Destroyed My Life and Sabotaged My Career

“I don’t have the right to exist.”

The brutality of the thought broke my heart and filled my eyes with tears. Why would I believe something like this?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it made sense. I constantly felt the necessity to work harder, be better, achieve more to justify my existence. To prove to myself and others that it was okay for me to stick around as long as I was useful.

Even though I was an illegal immigrant to life.

As long as I showed no weakness, made no mistake, and contributed more than my fair share to society, I would be tolerated. Others would overlook the fact that I shouldn’t actually exist. That I was some kind of accident, a glitch in the universal plan.

But being exposed as anything less than perfect would result in my temporary residency in life to be revoked.

And I knew, deep in my heart, that I wasn’t faultless, that I struggled. I only faked the perfect version of myself that fulfilled all the qualifying criteria stipulated in my provisional residence permit.

I didn’t have the required knowledge, expertise or success to permanently occupy a space in this life.

I was a fraud. Pretending to belong in this life when I did not. Every day, I desperately clung to the hope that I could blind everyone around me just one more day. But I lived with the constant terror that my devastating secret would be exposed.

Sure, my conscious mind understood that my fear was irrational.

What did I think would happen if I was exposed as a fraud with no permission to exist? Would I just cease to be? Vanish in a purple puff of smoke?

I knew it made no sense. Yet, the believe was lodged deep inside of me. And I was about to find out why.

The Disastrous Reason I Believed I Didn’t Have the Right to Exist

In September 2010, I consulted an energy healer to help with my, at the time, severe anxiety. I mentioned that I struggled with imposter syndrome and the belief that I didn’t have the right to exist.

And she looked at me and said, “Of course you do. Because you have no self-worth.”

It was the piece of the puzzle I needed. Suddenly, it all made sense.

I believed that I was inherently worthless. And that I didn’t have the right to exist as long as I had no worth.

So, my entire life was a relentless pursuit of more worth. All the long hours, the hard work, all the perfecting happened in the name of worth generation. To earn the right to exist.

But I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

I needed to gain wealth, love, abundance to have enough worth to receive a permanent right to exist. But I wasn’t worthy enough to deserve them.

I had to be a success, but I was terrified that achieving greatness would draw too much attention on myself. And the fact that I was alive without the proper permissions.

So, my inherent worthlessness made it impossible to claim the right to exist. And without the right to exist, I could never achieve what I needed to earn enough worth.

It was a hopeless, futile quest. Without prospect of a solution. And it left me only one option: to pretend, to be a fraud.

And hope nobody would ever find out.

The Impossible Conundrum of a Worthless Existence

I had no clue how to dig myself out of this rut. How could I accumulate enough worth to earn the right to exist so I wouldn’t have to feel like a fraud ever again?

I had hit a wall in my quest. There seemed to be no solution, only pointless rumination that spiralled in endless circles. Was I doomed to hide in the shadows, unable to ever rightfully claim my place in life?

I was about to surrender to my fate as an unwanted pretender, a slave to my imposter syndrome and worthlessness. But then my daughter was born.

And one realization changed everything.

The Key to Unlocking Your Worth

About three weeks after her birth, I looked at my little girl sleeping peacefully. Her chest moved in a healthy rhythm and a tiny smile played around her lips.

My heart filled with adoration for this wonderful creation, and I knew that she was valuable. That she had every right to exist in this world and deserved all the love, happiness, and abundance this life has to offer.

Yet, she had no achievements, no wealth or success to pay for her right to exist. She had never earned any worth. And she didn’t have to.

Because worth was the essence of her being, the core of her true Self. She was worth personified.

And so was I, and everybody else. Because true, inner worth cannot be destroyed. It is as constant as our cell structure, it doesn’t change when we fail, are criticized or make a mistake.

The realization was life-changing. The sudden relief felt as if I medium-sized mountain range fell of my chest. I didn’t have to prove my worth!

Society had taught me all my life that I needed high-flying achievements, perfection, wealth to deserve the right to exist. But they were wrong. My entire belief system that caused my struggles was flawed.

Because the truth was that, like my little daughter, I was worth.

As such I could never be worthless. I had the right to exist, to claim my rightful place in life and my happiness right here and now. Simply because I was alive.

And I finally had the cure for my imposter syndrome.

How to Stop Feeling Like a Fraud Once and for All

So, I started to affirm: “I have the right to exist. I am worth” several times a day. Every time I felt insecure, worthless, or like a fraud, I reminded myself of my infinite, inherent worth.

At first, my mind resisted the change. Worthlessness thinking had become a disastrous habit that my mind wasn’t willing to abandon without a fight. But I persevered.

And eventually, over a few months, I retrained my mind. I created a new, healthier habit.

I noticed that I didn’t feel inferior so often, that my confidence in meetings improved. I no longer felt apologetic for taking up space or bothering people. And I became less demanding of myself, lovingly accepting and respecting my limits because I knew perfection, or its absence, wouldn’t change my worth.

And one day, I realized that the fear of being exposed if I drew too much attention to myself was gone. And without that fear, I found it easier to stand up to others and defend my opinions. I even started to acknowledge and celebrate my successes.

Now, I am no longer terrified of the accusing finger pointing me out as an imposter. I no longer need to pretend to be more than I am. Because I know I am not a fraud.

I am enough. From the day I was born to the day I will die, and beyond, I will have the right to exist.

Because I am worth.

Just like you.

This post courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

Photo by John Noonan on Unsplash.

The post Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It first appeared on World of Psychology.

from https://ift.tt/34NTuFJ Check out https://peterlegyel.wordpress.com/

[ashley-unicorn]

Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It

“I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody and they’re going to find me out.” – Maya Angelou

Any minute now they would find out.

I scanned the large conference room. The twenty-six project team members around the table discussed data analysis. Their voices were muffled by the thick fog of my anxiety.

My own throat tried to choke me, and my chest refused to expand. Sweat trickled down my side.

Breathe, just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

My eyes met my boss’s and he smiled at me across the room. I quickly looked down at my notes. My cheeks were burning.

I knew what was coming.

It would be my turn next to showcase my part of the project. I had been working on it for months. Starting early, staying late, slaving away every waking hour, perfecting every detail.

But I couldn’t hide any longer. Couldn’t pretend any more. I would be exposed.

In a few minutes they would discover that my efforts weren’t up to scratch. That I wasn’t good enough.

They would listen to my presentation and their faces would darken with disappointment. They would whisper to each other in dismay and ask me questions I couldn’t answer.

And then, someone would stand up, point at me and say, “You have no clue what you are talking about, do you? You are nothing but a fraud. A pathetic excuse for a scientist. You know nothing.”

Any minute now.

I clutched the edge of the table. Tears stung in my eyes and I swallowed hard. My intestines were churning.

I had to get away.

Leaping to my feet, I mumbled an excuse. I stumbled out of the room, heart racing, and made it to the bathroom.

And then I cried.

Why I Was an Imposter by Name but Not by Nature

I eventually managed to pull myself together. I washed my face, blew my nose, took several deep breaths.

And I returned to the fateful meeting, red-eyed and swollen. Feigning an allergic reaction to conceal my mortifying episode.

I presented my work.

And nothing happened. Nobody objected, interrogated, exposed. No fingers were pointed at me.

All I saw was friendly faces and approving nods. Some people even praised the huge amount of work I put in and the high quality of my results.

And yet, as I shuffled home that night, drained and numb, I didn’t feel like celebrating a success. Because all I could think was, “You were lucky this time. Next time they will realize that you are a fraud for sure. Then game over.”

And right there, on a gloomy November evening of 2007, it hit me. I had a problem. It was ruining my life, destroying my confidence, and sabotaging my career.

I had to do something about it.

As I arrived home, I googled “feeling like a fraud at work” and discovered that I wasn’t alone. The problem seemed to be so common, there was even a name for it: imposter syndrome.

And I displayed all the symptoms.

I doubted myself and my abilities, believing my skills and expertise always fell short of expectations. No matter how hard I tried, my successes seemed negligible, laughable compared to others. And I could never believe anybody who told me I did a good job.

Imposter syndrome was clearly the problem I faced. But the word “imposter” didn’t match up with what I experienced every day at the office.

I wasn’t maliciously trying to deceive other people, tricking them into believing I was more knowledgeable, competent, and successful than I was for my own fraudulent gain.

In fact, the opposite was true.

I didn’t pretend to be more than I was to further my career and take advantage of innocent people. No, I was hiding my weaknesses and shortcomings as well as I could. So others wouldn’t discover my devastating secret.

I just didn’t know it yet.

The Reveal of the True Reason Behind My Imposter Syndrome

For the next couple of years, I searched for a way to eradicate my imposter syndrome. I read self-help books, took personal growth courses, meditated, visualised.

And things improved.

After a while, the all-consuming panic of being exposed as a fraud receded. I managed to better compose myself in meetings and presentations. And I even started to accept praise here and there with an awkward smile and only a slight cringe.

But still, the stubborn, anxious voiceover kept playing in the background of my mind, every day of my life: “You are a fraud. And, one day soon, they will find you out.”

Frustration about being stuck in an endless self-degrading loop turned to anger about my inability to overcome my imposter syndrome. Why was I so horrified of being exposed?

My conscious mind knew that I was doing quite well. That I was good at my work. And that, even if my failings were to be uncovered, it wouldn’t be the end of my career.

Or my life.

Yet, I remained terrified of that one question that would hit my blind-spot. And I anticipated the accusing finger whenever my work came under scrutiny. Because my subconscious mind believed that being exposed as my flawed self was, in fact, the end.

I just didn’t know why.

Until, some months later in May 2010, I participated in a group hypnotherapy session. We were asked to retrieve memories of a scene in our past where our most damaging belief originated. And while I couldn’t conjure up the past, a limiting belief shot into my brain and made me gasp.

Because it explained all of my struggles with imposter syndrome.

The Heartbreaking Belief That Destroyed My Life and Sabotaged My Career

“I don’t have the right to exist.”

The brutality of the thought broke my heart and filled my eyes with tears. Why would I believe something like this?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it made sense. I constantly felt the necessity to work harder, be better, achieve more to justify my existence. To prove to myself and others that it was okay for me to stick around as long as I was useful.

Even though I was an illegal immigrant to life.

As long as I showed no weakness, made no mistake, and contributed more than my fair share to society, I would be tolerated. Others would overlook the fact that I shouldn’t actually exist. That I was some kind of accident, a glitch in the universal plan.

But being exposed as anything less than perfect would result in my temporary residency in life to be revoked.

And I knew, deep in my heart, that I wasn’t faultless, that I struggled. I only faked the perfect version of myself that fulfilled all the qualifying criteria stipulated in my provisional residence permit.

I didn’t have the required knowledge, expertise or success to permanently occupy a space in this life.

I was a fraud. Pretending to belong in this life when I did not. Every day, I desperately clung to the hope that I could blind everyone around me just one more day. But I lived with the constant terror that my devastating secret would be exposed.

Sure, my conscious mind understood that my fear was irrational.

What did I think would happen if I was exposed as a fraud with no permission to exist? Would I just cease to be? Vanish in a purple puff of smoke?

I knew it made no sense. Yet, the believe was lodged deep inside of me. And I was about to find out why.

The Disastrous Reason I Believed I Didn’t Have the Right to Exist

In September 2010, I consulted an energy healer to help with my, at the time, severe anxiety. I mentioned that I struggled with imposter syndrome and the belief that I didn’t have the right to exist.

And she looked at me and said, “Of course you do. Because you have no self-worth.”

It was the piece of the puzzle I needed. Suddenly, it all made sense.

I believed that I was inherently worthless. And that I didn’t have the right to exist as long as I had no worth.

So, my entire life was a relentless pursuit of more worth. All the long hours, the hard work, all the perfecting happened in the name of worth generation. To earn the right to exist.

But I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

I needed to gain wealth, love, abundance to have enough worth to receive a permanent right to exist. But I wasn’t worthy enough to deserve them.

I had to be a success, but I was terrified that achieving greatness would draw too much attention on myself. And the fact that I was alive without the proper permissions.

So, my inherent worthlessness made it impossible to claim the right to exist. And without the right to exist, I could never achieve what I needed to earn enough worth.

It was a hopeless, futile quest. Without prospect of a solution. And it left me only one option: to pretend, to be a fraud.

And hope nobody would ever find out.

The Impossible Conundrum of a Worthless Existence

I had no clue how to dig myself out of this rut. How could I accumulate enough worth to earn the right to exist so I wouldn’t have to feel like a fraud ever again?

I had hit a wall in my quest. There seemed to be no solution, only pointless rumination that spiralled in endless circles. Was I doomed to hide in the shadows, unable to ever rightfully claim my place in life?

I was about to surrender to my fate as an unwanted pretender, a slave to my imposter syndrome and worthlessness. But then my daughter was born.

And one realization changed everything.

The Key to Unlocking Your Worth

About three weeks after her birth, I looked at my little girl sleeping peacefully. Her chest moved in a healthy rhythm and a tiny smile played around her lips.

My heart filled with adoration for this wonderful creation, and I knew that she was valuable. That she had every right to exist in this world and deserved all the love, happiness, and abundance this life has to offer.

Yet, she had no achievements, no wealth or success to pay for her right to exist. She had never earned any worth. And she didn’t have to.

Because worth was the essence of her being, the core of her true Self. She was worth personified.

And so was I, and everybody else. Because true, inner worth cannot be destroyed. It is as constant as our cell structure, it doesn’t change when we fail, are criticized or make a mistake.

The realization was life-changing. The sudden relief felt as if I medium-sized mountain range fell of my chest. I didn’t have to prove my worth!

Society had taught me all my life that I needed high-flying achievements, perfection, wealth to deserve the right to exist. But they were wrong. My entire belief system that caused my struggles was flawed.

Because the truth was that, like my little daughter, I was worth.

As such I could never be worthless. I had the right to exist, to claim my rightful place in life and my happiness right here and now. Simply because I was alive.

And I finally had the cure for my imposter syndrome.

How to Stop Feeling Like a Fraud Once and for All

So, I started to affirm: “I have the right to exist. I am worth” several times a day. Every time I felt insecure, worthless, or like a fraud, I reminded myself of my infinite, inherent worth.

At first, my mind resisted the change. Worthlessness thinking had become a disastrous habit that my mind wasn’t willing to abandon without a fight. But I persevered.

And eventually, over a few months, I retrained my mind. I created a new, healthier habit.

I noticed that I didn’t feel inferior so often, that my confidence in meetings improved. I no longer felt apologetic for taking up space or bothering people. And I became less demanding of myself, lovingly accepting and respecting my limits because I knew perfection, or its absence, wouldn’t change my worth.

And one day, I realized that the fear of being exposed if I drew too much attention to myself was gone. And without that fear, I found it easier to stand up to others and defend my opinions. I even started to acknowledge and celebrate my successes.

Now, I am no longer terrified of the accusing finger pointing me out as an imposter. I no longer need to pretend to be more than I am. Because I know I am not a fraud.

I am enough. From the day I was born to the day I will die, and beyond, I will have the right to exist.

Because I am worth.

Just like you.

This post courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

Photo by John Noonan on Unsplash.

The post Imposter Syndrome: Why You Have It & How to Stop It first appeared on World of Psychology.

from https://ift.tt/34NTuFJ Check out https://daniejadkins.wordpress.com/

[twilithiasaier]

On VLD and the GLP

As I write this today, it is Monday, August 13th, 2018. The sudden reason is that I have had quite a few revelations the past hour  than I've probably had in a while. Of course, I knew stuff like this would happen, it is an inevitable part of human inertia with change. What made this possible, though, is the reaction to the many revelations I've seen. How other people reacted. How other people have been targeted, and hurt. It's not fair, none of it is, but here we are. In 2018, still dealing with the problems of our ancestors and forefathers, still trying to develop an issue that didn't even exist in the time of Egypt. It's a holdback, and people are trying to change, yet barely an ear has listened to the pleas they're hearing.

Recently, I was Amino, just roaming around, nonchalant, seeing what the world has to offer. It was there that I was looking at some evidence of Klance that I stumbled across something known as the "Green Light Petition" towards DreamWorks. This petition, from what I understand, is allocating for DreamWorks to allow the writers and producers of Voltron: Legendary Defender to shift and create the story as they please. Why? Because they weren't allowed to have as much freedom as they'd liked to have with the show in its current state, mainly in regards to LGBTQ+ representation. This being, I read through everything, saw the guidelines, and gladly signed my petition as 22,327, I believe (I don't quite remember the exact 100th).

This petition had me see many issues that are present today in modern society not only in the United States as my current place of residence, but throughout the world as a whole. It is a sad state of affairs, really, and one that hasn't really been addressed properly. I am here not for that objective, as much as I'd want to, but rather place my opinion on the matter at hand. What is this matter you say? Well, mes ami(e)s, that is on LGBTQ+ representation AND freedom of media writing, production, and display. It is a difficult road to travel along, long and uncared for, but it is necessary for today's population to grow, develope, and understand. Not just for us today, but for the future, and the children that will one day lead and change the world. Not only in one specific country, no, but the global community. And if this makeshift writing just-so-happens to help, than I would lie if I said I didn't feel proud. Not in myself, but with helping others in the vision of change.

Let's start with the basics: VLD S7- now then, I won't post specifics or spoilers here for the sake that I know some people haven't watched the season yet, but what happens in the comments is beyond my control. Season 7 did have some moments that I liked as not alike, but that can't be helped. What I found out, though, is that some details weren't authorized within the story, and that is disheartening at least. Why? Well I don't know. Why is it that humans act a given way? Again, there are theories- such as environment, teachings, et cetera- but I don't know for sure. It's one of those mysteries that keep you wondering. The details were mostly LGBTQ+ if I am correct, which just leaves you wondering what on Earth was going through their heads. Not human development, apparently. This is not to say anything against the writers, producers, or cast and crew, because it wasn't their choice. Despite all their fighting for what they believe, sometimes you can't win against an alpha, that is, unless there is mass support.

And support the GLP seeks to gain, indeed. Support for the cast and crew to not see the show as forced, but desired. And they probably can't get that alone. If not now, then for the future. I still am, and always will be, a Klance shipper, but don't let that cloud your opinion. I still see Klance as endgame, and nothing will change that. However, I presume that the details and specifics are what's lacking in approval, and please do forgive me if I am wrong, for I mean no disrespect by trying to insinuate things that are in fact not. That doesn't change the fact of the matter, though: their freedom is being restricted, and how that effects viewers and their messages is eminent and harsh. There are people struggling out there with who they are, who they were, and who they are to be. VLD amongst other shows that I don't know of in American media are where they seek help and fun and just in general a day off.  They are, however, being deprived of that. And yes, I know, some people would like more than what they're given, prone to overreact, but that still doesn't aid the disappointment. I, for one, wasn't as such, because I saw all the smaller moments, but what I would've really liked was some larger, thought-provoking scenes, well, all that's really required in what is essentially a kid's show. You know, the scenes that weren't given the green light? Yeah. But still remember, not the choice if the cast and crew- it's the superiors you have to worry about.

I do wonder what the superiors of VLD think they're teaching the new generation. To pester and follow your love until they are forced upon you do to less-than-favorable circumstances? I'd hope not, that's a terrible lesson to learn. Maybe they should teach acceptance. Getting over people and moving on. Perhaps that it's okay to love people of the sane sex or gender and discover yourself. Those are great lessons for children of the younger ages, n'est-ce pas? I, as a child, never had the opportunities and freedom that they do now with the internet and all. It just wasn't there. But now that it is, why is it that we don't use it? Is it fear of change, unwillingness to change, a thought process instilled ages ago in a less open time? I wish I knew, but this answer I know not.

A little while ago, a couple of years, perhaps, I saw my first "gay" movie, that it, to relish in a gay main character. What it American? No, not at all. Does that mean there aren't any in America? Again, no, not at all. This is just how I was introduced to gay circa, and it wasn't show here, with our overwhelming plethora of media readily accessible. The movie was French, called Baiser Cachés, or Hidden Kisses. It was a lovely movie, so then I went to watch a variety of other gay cinema, mostly, but not all, foreign. Jongens; North Sea, Texas; Were the Work Mine; Dou Kyu Sei. Only one of those are American, WTWM, and let me tell you, I was obsessed. That was only 14 months ago. Point being, as much as the US has to offer, social issues aren't the best, though neither are they the worst. Rather, they could just improve. And a step towards that goal? Allowing the cast and crew of a show to go unhindered in their creative processes, I'm pretty sure they know what they're doing. So if S7 could be altered for what what damage and neglected, then I'd be totally for that and love it more than I already do. Or they could add more seasons... But I can give up heaven if men find peace. So, as long as S8 is good, then I'm good. Creativity if the key. On a side note, they best gay show I've ever seen was season 3 of Skam. Evak for life. It's Norwegian, and amazing. It had some of the best reviews, that season of 4, in all of Norway and in the world. They had free reign over the show, and the outcome was amazing. If they can change, depict, and inspire, then so can we.

Today, it is 2018, and the world is evolving. Fast. We should probably get with the program lest we get left behind. VLD is a wonderful show, even if not all the content I'd like- which is a personal grievance- though it has been shown that they were forced into that position. Malheureusement. What I'm hoping I'd that the people on the show, who've been there through salt and sugar, can produce as they so rightfully deserve, as everyone does. Along with the depletion of the hate they're getting, again, it's not their fault. But we can only hope. I hope they get their rights, they deserve them. We can fight for them together, if need be. And that's what the GLP is for. To help to cast and crew of VLD gain what was limited to them. To help educate children watching this show, because I can assure you that not everyone has my sane cinematic tastes. For some, VLD would be their first introduction to the problems faced by some people. For others, it will help then to understand. And to others, it will let them realize.

DreamWorks was made to procure dreams in children and elsewhere, but I can't help but see their failure when a really successful show if theirs works in taking dreams away. Counterproductive, don't you think? This is why we must fight, though not literally. I'm a pacifist, and I believe violence only makes things worse. This case more so than others. Let's not go into detail. In Tibetan Buddhism, a thoughtform is an idea, concept, or desire that becomes reality when enough voices, people, and thoughts are yearning for the same thing. So I say, let's pray, hope, and think together, and what we desire will a simple thought no more. For the children of today and of the future. Of equality and hope and freedom, let's make it through this together, and bask in S8. Times are evolving, and so must we, it's inevitable, though it's amazing that people still don't quite see that yet.

Today is Tuesday, August 14th, 2018, and the time for change is now.

{{Comment, copy, and share as you'd like- through proper terms of course. You can message me if you'd like to repost, and/or give credit so that it's not plagiarised. I don't mind, it's what it's here for. To make you think. The original is on Wattpad under the profile Twilithia if you'd like to read the second part and other endnotes. Thank you for your time. À bientôt, ma fam.}}

[weekendwarriorblog]

ED’s Tribeca Film Festival Diary Part 3 – Wrapping Things Up (Very Late)

The Tribeca Film Festival has been over for weeks now, and it was a moderately decent year, although I was sidetracked by other things to post the last part of my diary. If nothing else, not having a job allowed me to spend a lot more time seeing a variety of movies than I normally do when I have to work on other things for theatrical release.

I saw a bunch of movies, mostly in Chelsea at the Cinepolis Cinemas and SVA Theater because going to Tribeca is still a pain in the butt even though I live downtown. It requires a crosstown bus that only runs certain hours, as I found out when I was left stranded in Battery Park on a Saturday night after the only premiere I went there to see.

Before I get into my final capsule reviews, I want to give a big, big thanks to the wonderful Tammie Rosen, who once again gifted me with a Hudson Pass, which allowed me to get into a lot more public screenings and therefore, see more movies. I probably saw about half press and half public screenings, but I was shocked to not see many press people at the latter, especially with so many of them getting similar access as me. It’s kind of a shame, because you can’t really judge a festival in any given year without making an attempt to see a variety of movies in different sections and especially catch some of the awards winners on the final Sunday. I just don’t see many of the local press taking advantage of this opportunity, so they end up missing many really strong films, even once they finally get theatrical release.

I always have to explain to publicists that I don’t generally cover documentaries at film festivals, and there’s a number of good reasons for this. First of all, few outlets care about doc coverage, mainly because they’re not sexy enough to get the required clicks/traffic that’s so important for a site’s income. I get it. The other reason is that I’m such a fan of the doc genre that very often, almost always actually, docs end up being my favorite thing out of festivals, so it’s rare for me to make a festival “Best of” list that’s NOT topped by a doc. Not exactly fair, but them’s the breaks.

With that caveat, I present two of the best movies I saw at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival…and they’re both documentaries…

It’s a Hard Truth, Ain’t It?

I mentioned this in my capsule review of Madeleine Sackler’s O.G. as a companion doc, but it’s a lot more than that. Frankly, I think this is up there with some of the best docs I’ve seen, which is amazing since it’s essentially a “school project.” Basically, Sackler was teaching a documentary program at the Pendleton maximum security prison in Indiana, allowing a select group of inmates to talk about their stories and what led them to end up in Pendleton for murder, as other inmates filmed them. I’m going to make a confession here, knowing that few people bother to read my blog, but I have a friend in jail who has become my ersatz pen pal over the past few years. I know his story and how he got there, but I also know that he’s not a bad person and he just did something stupid. Hearing the ups and downs of his experience has made me far more in tune with the experience of inmates and ex-cons trying to get back into society.  This is an incredibly emotional film, one that nearly had me in tears hearing all the bad things that happened to some of these guys before they eventually lashed out and ended up killing someone. It’s a fair cop and they rightfully deserve to be in jail, but they all seem to have found redemption, and the fact that they were able to make this doc and get it out to the public makes It’s a Hard Truth, Ain’t It one of the best docs I’ve seen this year and many years, in fact, and it deserves your time and attention, as does…

United Skates

Just as I’d settled into the idea of Sackler’s doc being the best of the fest, I was able to catch this documentary, which won the Audience Award and blew me away just as much. Directed by Dyanna Winkler and Tina Brown, it looks at the rise and fall of the skating rink as a place that brought together the African-American communities in various American cities. I’ll admit that I never really knew much about rollerskating, because I’ve never gone myself, but I found the phenomenon intriguing after seeing it depicted in Malcolm Lee’s Roll Bounce. This doc really gets into the nationwide appeal and tragic death of the roller rink as a community meeting space.  The filmmakers spent a number of years with a number of rollerskating enthusiasts in North Carolina and California, as well as an independent rink owner in Chicago, showing how the resistance to “adult nights” – essentially when African-Americans can go to the rink to show off their fashion and moves to the music they liked – as well as the re-zoning of existing rink locations that have made them a dying breed. This is a very entertaining doc, regardless of your own personal interest in rollerskating. What was interesting about the screening I saw this at was that there was not an inordinate amount of African-Americans in the audience, which probably is more because many moviegoers probably bought their tickets to the screening before knowing which documentary won.  Still, this doc probably has a lot of potential for the right distributor, and I hope it finds one soon.

The Fourth Estate

Tribeca’s closing night film was also a doc, and that was Liz Garbus’ look at the New York Timesduring the first 100 days of the Trump Presidency, the first of a four-part series for Showtime docs that will air later this month. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not particularly political, nor am I an avid reader of the Times. In fact, I prefer plenty of other New York papers to it, because it always came off to be as high-falutin’ and overly-expensive, and yet, it’s still the best newspaper in the world in terms of quality of content, writing and reporting. I don’t have a ton to say about the movie, as it basically covers similar ground as other docs about the Times, although it’s certainly TIMElier (ha ha) by dealing with the paper’s recent political coverage and how the Washington desk works with (or sometimes against) the higher ups in New York. I’ll definitely be curious to watch the other three parts, though I don’t have Showtime, so hopefully they’ll send me a screener.

To Dust

The narrative Audience Award went to Shawn Snyder’s dark dramedy about a Hassidic man whose wife died and who turns to a science teacher to help him understand what’s happening since her body was buried. It’s a fairly grim and morbid premise but one with enough heart and humor that I can totally understand why it played so well with audiences. It wasn’t my personal favorite movie of the festival, but considering that it premiered out of competition as a Special Screening (possibly to avoid favoritism of it having come out of the Tribeca Institute, maybe?), it was good that it got love from the Tribeca audiences, because I might have missed it otherwise. The film stars Géza Röhrig, who played the title character in the Oscar-winning Son of Saul, as Shmuel, a Hassidic cantor whose wife passed away recently, but he’s been having nightmares about her not resting peacefully after her burial. Unsure of what she must be going through as her body decomposes in the ground, he turns to a science teacher played by Matthew Broderick, to figure out what exactly is happening with his wife’s body. It’s a very dark buddy comedy of sorts as these two men from different backgrounds trying to understand death and decomposition, yet the movie does work.

Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda

Another Tribeca doc I was interested in, mainly due to my own experiences and passion for music, was this spotlight on the Japanese composer and musician, whose career began with Yellow Magic Orchestra and David Sylvain’s band Japan, which is from where I know him best. Sure, he’s done a ton of soundtrack work and that’s mainly the focus of this film, but it’s by no means a typical “history of” doc, as much as it covers some of his more recent years. It begins with his trip to the Fukushima area where a nuclear power plant exploded in 2011 following an earthquake and monsoon. He was there looking for sound sources but also because he was a frequent ecological warrior in terms of trying to save the earth from the destruction being caused by Godzilla… I mean… man.  A few years later, Sakamoto is diagnosed with throat cancer, although it skips over most of his treatment to pick up in 2014 when he’s trying to find direction for his next record. If you’re a musician or into film scores, this doc from Stephen Schible offers enough of Sakomoto’s process for making music to keep you invested, although it’s definitely a movie for music nerds more than anything else.  MUBI will release this doc theatrically and On Demand in July sometime.

Egg

I was mostly interested in this film because it was directed by Mariana Palka, whose last movie Bitch, while not perfect, was an interesting commentary on gender roles in the family. (And it starred Jason Ritter, who is one of my favorite underrated actors.) This is a very different movie, written by Risa Mickenberg, and it reminded me very much of God of Carnage, not the play, because I never saw that, but the movie by Roman Polanski that had an all-star cast. This is a similar movie about two couples who get together with issues arising the more time they spend together. The first couple is played by David Alan Basche and Christina Hendricks, who are pregnant with their first child, while Alysia Reiner and Gbenga Akinnagbe play their friends Tina and Wayne, who living in a bohemian Brooklyn loft and are having their own baby through a surrogate.  The movie kind of grew on me but really, the best part was when Anna Camp shows up as the notorious surrogate who they’ve been talking about for the last 45 minutes. She brings a much-needed level of humor as the somewhat ditzy but oddly-logical blonde Kiki who really stirs things up. Honestly, this might have worked better as a stageplay, because there’s nothing about it that makes it feel like it necessarily needed to be a movie. I’m sure mileage will vary depending on whether you have had kids or plan to, but it’s not the strongest follow-up for Palka.

Diane

Kent Jones’ narrative feature debut stars Mary Kay Place as the title character, and she’s very good in the role of a middle-aged woman trying to deal with a lot of things at once, including a son with addiction issues, a cousin dying from cancer and more. Jones’ movie reminds me of the work of Kenneth Lonergan, who I’m really not that big a fan of (especially not the much-ballyhooed Margaret), and it’s essentially a character piece that never really goes anywhere. There’s lots of scenes of driving and lots of talking but not really much in terms of plot, as we follow Diane trying to deal with these various things, and quite a bit of time passes over the course of the film. And yet, Jones’ film won the main jury prize as well as awards for screenplay and cinematography. Go figure. I had seen much worthier offerings.  (It also became abundantly clear what was missing from Jones’ film when I watched the similarly-paced but far superior First Reformed from Paul Schrader, although to be fair, Schrader has four decades more experience making films than Jones.)

That should be all for now, as the Tribeca Film Festival is over for another year. I’m not sure if I’ll have a job or somewhere to cover Tribeca for next year, but I think I’ve found a happy medium on coverage in terms of seeing as many movies as possible and writing about all of them. Would love to hear your thoughts on my reviews or other movies, if you get a chance.

[johnchiarello]

TEXAS SHOOTING

TEXAS CHURCH MASSACRE  

 Texas Church shooting- https://youtu.be/x6KeylSyEj4

http://ccoutreach87.com/11-6-17-texas-church-shooting/

 .Covered some news

.Seth Rich and the DNC

.Donna thought it was murder too!

.Clinton- Trump- Sanders

.Caller Times

.Rick Perry

.Lights would help

.Uranium One

.Deep state- everywhere?

.Why is the nation angry?

.They have a right to be- of course

.But why?

.Murder is a violation of moral/natural law

.Many who are mad say ‘you cannot legislate morality’

.Yet when the moral law is broken- they themselves admit that we need to ‘legislate morality’

.See?

 NEW- [Past posts- News links below]

  I have been slowing down on the news posts- but today I figured I would do a brief recap of the past few weeks.

Some of it is ‘silly stuff’- meaning the general bias of the media- and how they waste the public's time.

 The Rick Perry story being one of them.

But the tragic massacre of the innocents in Texas was a real news story.

I simply tried to talk about why killing is wrong-

From the standpoint of natural law.

 I have taught these things in the past- and as of now I’m not sure how much more I will do today.

The country is polarized- on many things.

Yet- both the left and right share in their outrage over the senseless killing of the people in a small church right here just 2 hours North of where I live.

 Both sides of the aisle have different solutions to the problem-

Yet they are mad- for the same basic reason- whether they realize it or not.

And yes- that reason itself is rooted in the foundation of what is right- and what is wrong.

 It goes all the way back to the law of God- natural law theory.

It is wrong to kill- to take Innocent life.

That indeed is a moral law- that comes from God.

 Some thinkers deny this [thus the debate]-

But our shared national outrage is indeed a moral one-

Whether you admit it- or not.

 PAST POSTS-

https://ccoutreach87.com/western-intellectual-tradition/

https://ccoutreach87.com/overview-of-philosophy/

https://ccoutreach87.com/classics-of-western-literature/

https://ccoutreach87.com/atheism-apologetics-links-added/

JOHN LOCKE-

Locke taught that each man has individual rights- and he empowers government- an elected designated body- to have rule-

Yet- that government exists solely for the benefit of the people- and when/if that government ‘forgets’ this- the people have a right/duty to revolt.

Locke’s ideas were formed at a time when his own government experienced a sort of revolution [1600’s- England].

The people revolted against monarchy- and replaced it with a sort of Democratic Parliament-

Referred to as the bloodless revolution or the glorious revolution.

The king [or today- queen] would still play a role- like a figurehead- but the power was in the people- willingly given over to a Parliament.

The political ideas of Locke influenced our founding fathers- and our Declaration of Independence and Constitution are in parts almost word for word taken from the writings of Locke.

Locke believed in natural law- that morality was indeed a universal reality [some scholars/thinkers will say that Locke does not fully embrace the Christian concept of natural/moral law].

He taught that  knowledge comes from man’s experience- the things he interacts with thru the 5 senses.

That man is not born with innate ideas [like the early Greek thinkers said] but his mind is a Tabula Rasa- or blank slate at birth.

This is an Empirical understanding of knowledge.

Locke also believed in the concept of the separation of church and state- this idea was not unique to our founding fathers- no- they got it right out of the writings of Locke [his parents were Puritans- and they obviously influenced their son].

Locke’s political views were-

Individualistic-

Egalitarian-

Contractual [social compact]-

These ideas differed from the early Greek thinkers [especially Aristotle] who held to a naturalistic view- meaning that nature itself ‘intended’ for certain individuals to have rule over others [the smarter should have rule over the ‘less smart’- and of course Aristotle saw himself in the more nobler crowd!]

Locke also believed in religious toleration- a view held by most in the Western world today.

He saw the Right to private property- as a natural right.

He believed that denial of the existence of God would lead to anarchy in the long run.

He believed that the cosmological argument for the existence of God was valid [called teleology].

DIOGENES-

I think I mentioned him on today’s video [I am writing this before I review the video and add the bullet points].

In the study of philosophy- he is not known for deep thought- or new ideas.

He lived in the 5th century B.C. - died in the 4th in the biblical city of Corinth.

Diogenes believed in ‘living with less’- he was known to have slept in a ceramic pot- he lived and ate on the streets- and was basically like many of my homeless friends.

Yet- he felt in doing this he was a sort of ‘prophetic’ sign to the world around him.

He is believed to be the first to refer to himself as a ‘cosmopolitan’- meaning a man of the world- and not identifying with any one city.

He was born at Sinope- [Modern day Turkey] traveled to Athens- the main center of wisdom/philosophy.

Attended the lectures of Plato- and interrupted them

He disputed Plato’s interpretation of his teacher- Socrates.

And had a memorable encounter with Alexander the Great.

The story goes [there are a few versions of it- maybe more along the line of myth] that Alexander wanted to meet with Diogenes- and he heard he was in town [Corinth] so Alexander went to meet him.

Upon arriving at the spot- he greeted Alexander and told him he would fulfill any request that the Cynic asked.

Diogenes replied ‘Move over- you’re standing in my sun light’.

It is said that as Alexander left- and made the statement ‘If I were not Alexander- I would be Diogenes’.

How true- well we will never know for sure.

He did live at a time- and in a place- where the famous philosophers would come from.

He believed rejecting wealth- and the comforts of life- were a statement against the society of his day.

He purposefully challenged the ‘normal’ way of life- by being different- and at times- vulgar.

It is said that he carried a cup- for drinking.

And he saw a young boy one day- drinking from the brook with his hands.

He then threw away the cup- realizing that ‘the god’s’ had given to men the basic things to survive- and he really did not need all the material things of life.

Like I said at the top - he is not known for his great thinking ability- but he was respected by the stoics-

   www.corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com

facebook.com/john.chiarello.5

ccoutreach87.wordpress.com

Note- Do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on. Thanks- John..#

   [parts]

Okay- just a little politics- then some bible stuff.

 Last night I watched the Repub debate- nothing real impressive- everyone played their angle. I also saw a few minutes of Maddow [MSNBC]. Okay- I have mentioned Maddow before- I mentioned that she is a lesbian- openly so. Fine [I don’t approve of the thing- but that’s her business] I want to simply give you an example of inconsistent thinking that people often engage in- and they don’t know it.

 A few days ago a report slipped out- some insider leaked the fact that Obama [and his re election team] have made the decision to smear Perry. Now- I know both sides do it- but this was a leak and Obama and his team were mad about the leak.

 Then- like clockwork- MSNBC began a week of smearing Perry- I mean it was ‘funny’ to see the sycophants- I mean they were like Pavlov’s dogs ‘jump- drool’ the whole 9 yards. First- they did a critique of the ‘Houston prayer and fasting’ thing- Perry announced a prayer day- had a bunch of preachers [who I actually disagree with theologically] at the event- and Maddow [Rachel Maddow- host of a news show] did an ‘in depth’ critique of all the ‘crazies’ that Perry was aligned with.

 She misrepresented the whole group of preachers- even though I do not hold to many of their views- she said they were part of the evangelical movements ‘theocratic’ wing. Theocracy is the belief that religion should actually be a govt./state function- many in the Islamic world hold to this view.

 Okay- the actual name for Christians who believe this is Reconstructionism- these Christians do hold to this view- they are a very small minority- and the group Perry was hanging with- they are in no way Reconstructionists.

 Second- Maddow critiqued ‘religion’ as she has in the past- and said her only problem with people like Perry- is they want to impose their values on others.

 If Rachel were a smart apologist [one who argues this point- but is smart] she would realize that all persons- especially her- do argue- all the time- from a natural law perspective. That is they- even though they deny it- are making the point- all the time- that their particular view of morality- whether it be gay marriage- or anti polygamy- or any other host of moral ideals- they all argue for the ‘legislation of morality’ legislation [the passing of law] is by definition the legislation of morality.

 Now- if that law is simply ‘can't drive 70 in a 60 MPH zone’ this is the legislation of morality. The moral principle is ‘don’t drive this speed- it might kill you- and me’ and then we pass a law that legislates that moral belief. Pretty simple.

 Okay- what Maddow is mad about- is the legislation of morality that effects her particular lifestyle. Now- she might say ‘well- we believe that consenting adults should be free to do what they want in the bedroom’ okay- got ya.

 Would you agree to 2 adults- lets say a brother and sister- who have no ability to have kids- should we let them marry?

 Most would rightfully say no- the point is- you are now defining what’s ‘right or wrong’ and it’s not simply a matter of what 2 adults want- it’s truly a matter of ‘right or wrong’.

 I could go on- ad infinitum- with these examples- the point is Maddow- like Perry- like the left- the right- they all have some sense of ethics- where they derive that ideal from- well that’s another point- but they have their own ‘morality’ and they do in fact want to impose it- all the time- on other people.

 So let’s at least be honest about the thing. Okay she finished her show last night with an image- she said that the true insiders- who know Perry- they will ALL tell you that they are concerned about Perry- they actually feel his is ‘dumb’.

 She explained that these insiders- they all knew Bush was really smart [wow- never heard you say that before] yet they all think Perry is actually mentally challenged [I kid you not- she went down this road] and that these Repub insiders- they actually fear for the country- that a dangerous loose cannon like this might take the reins.

 Okay- Maddow- who I’m sure would not appreciate us giving images of the things she does- or how ‘smart’ she is- she left us with the mental image that Perry is actually mentally challenged. The same image of Palin, Bachman, ETC.

 What’s wrong with this picture? Even though she claims ‘the insiders all said Bush was a genius’ yet her network- they ran with the story that Bush was actually dyslexic- yeah- I remember. Look- I’ll admit I’m no saint here- yeah I too have made jokes about Bush’s brain.

 Sure- I would say ‘hey- you critics of Bush- who said- look at the man- after the planes hit the towers- Bush sat- dumbfounded for around 7 minutes- sitting in that classroom- just looking confused’ Okay- I’ll admit I would quip ‘you guys are misreading it- he wasn’t confused about the response- he was sitting in a 3rd grade class- he was struggling with the curriculum’. Okay- I fess up.

 But Maddow left us with that ugly picture- the seed of thinking ‘geez- I never knew others viewed Perry that way’ and even I couldn’t shake the mental image- now thinking that he might really be what she said.

 They slandered him just as bad as the right has slandered their guys- they should just report the policies and leave this type of character assassination at home.

 Okay- I didn’t’ really do any bible stuff- but I covered a little on the moral law and ethics- which fits in with theology. So for now I’ll leave it at that.

 Don’t forget- to all my friends who read these posts- pray for one another. I just finished a prayer time and prayed for a bunch of my friends [and those in other nations] who are connected with us in some way- many are going through tough times- and it helps if others are also praying for each other. Pray for everyone on these sites- others who you see when going thru the site- you see a name- or a post that might indicate a friend is in trouble- then try and pray for them that day- stuff like this helps.

 And of course pray for Texas- we need it bad- I just found out that our governor is actually an ignoramus- I mean not just of low intellect- but so challenged that all the insiders fear for the safety of the free world if he gets elected. The source?- The same people who said ‘we believe that Obama is possibly the smartest person to ever hold the office of the president- he more than likely has the highest I.Q. than any other office holder in the history of the nation’. The other reporter asked ‘do you know what the number is’ the first guy said ‘no- but I know its very high- higher than any other president’. This was an actual on air discourse between 2 reporters during the inauguration celebration of president Obama.

 Yeah- these are just the type of folk I need telling me about Perry’s I.Q.- yeah- they sure know their stuff.

    www.corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com

[parts]

 APOLOGETICS- PHILOSOPHY- PROPHETS

21 And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears- Luke

https://youtu.be/-obZ4-MoPYE  Apologetics- Philosophy- Prophets

https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2017/01/1-8-17-apologetics-philosophy-prophets.zip

ON VIDEO-

.Nietzsche’s  madman

.Kant- Camus- Sartre

.I have less dollars now!

.Fairview cemetery

.’I will never rot in the grave’- huh?

.U.N. vote

.Israel and Palestine- another view

.Pluralism or exclusivism?

.Moral, Natural law theory

.Logos

.Redemption of the cosmos too

.Russian hacking- enough already!

.We hack too [and much worse]

.Cause and effect

.Aristotle

.Nihilism

.Teleology

.Love your neighbor as yourself

.Yes- The Muslim- Jew- Hindu - etc.- Jesus commands it

PAST TEACHING I DID THAT RELATES- [verses below]

https://ccoutreach87.com/overview-of-philosophy/

https://ccoutreach87.com/atheism-apologetics-links-added/

https://ccoutreach87.com/2016/12/26/galatians-1/

https://ccoutreach87.com/2016/12/30/2nd-samuel-3-homeless-friends/

https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/01/02/galatians-2/

https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/01/10/galatians-3/

https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/01/12/the-seed/

https://ccoutreach87.com/islam/

https://ccoutreach87.com/western-intellectual-tradition/

[parts]

  NEWS LINKS-

http://www.caller.com/story/opinion/editorials/2017/11/03/rick-perry-speaking-up-girl-africa/827392001/

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/energy-sec-perry-says-fossil-fuels-can-prevent-sexual-assault

https://www.infowars.com/donna-brazile-says-she-feared-for-her-life-after-seth-rich-was-killed/

http://www.cnn.com/2017/11/06/us/texas-church-shooting/index.html

http://www.foxnews.com/us/2017/11/05/mass-shooting-reported-at-texas-sutherland-springs-church.html

http://www.cnn.com/2017/11/05/us/texas-church-shooting/index.html

http://www.reuters.com/article/us-saudi-arrests/future-saudi-king-tightens-grip-on-power-with-arrests-including-prince-alwaleed-idUSKBN1D506P

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5053013/Devin-Kelley-outcast-preached-atheism.html

http://www.kiiitv.com/news/local/gunman-volunteered-one-night-at-church-in-kingsville/489520404

http://www.kristv.com/story/36768156/26-killed-in-church-attack-in-texas-worst-mass-shooting

MY SITES

www.corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com  [Main site]

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https://ccoutreach87.com/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZ4GsqTEVWRm0HxQTLsifvg

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http://ccoutreach.over-blog.com/

https://www.reddit.com/user/ccoutreach87

https://ccoutreach.yolasite.com/

https://ccoutreach87.jimdo.com/

https://www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/jchiarello

 Note- Please do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on-  Copy text- download video links [Wordpress- Vimeo] make complete copies of my books/studies and posts- everything is copyrighted by me- I give permission for all to copy and share as much as you like-  I just ask that nothing be sold. We live in an online world- yet- there is only one internet- meaning if it ever goes down- the only access to the teachings are what others have copied or downloaded- so feel free to copy and download as much as you want- it’s all free-

Thanks- John.